Knots
by Little Leaf of the Redwoods
Summary: A Deadliest Catch story about the Hansens as teenagers. Rated M for non-sexual spanking scenes of family discipline (older teen/younger teen), language and references to spankings (please DON'T READ if that offends you), family fluff, gushy emotions, loss and lots of brotherly love. Flames will be reported but reviews welcomed.
1. The Kid

**A/N: I own nothing and make no money. I just like to write for the pleasure of it and for any that want to read it. I do write for myself and also for anyone who likes this story. I try to take into account what people like or do not like so please feel free to PM me. Reviews are appreciated (I try to thank all individually) but I also understand that there are those who may read along quietly and never comment. Either way, thank you. I also try to limit A/Ns in general but sometimes it is the only way for me to communicate with you so I will from time to time. **

**Warnings: Spanking in some chapters, references to spanking in others, foul language, sexual innuendoes, child abuse (non-vivid descriptions), violence, fisticuffs, drama, angst, family fluff, teenage romance, hurt, comfort, brotherly moments, emotional scenes, grief, love. (I think I covered it all).**

**Main Characters:**

**Sig Hansen - 18 years old. Eldest brother. Blond, tall, cobalt blue eyes, hard working, highly personable. Currently looking after his two younger brothers this summer.**

**Norman Hansen - 17 years old. Middle brother. Short, muscular, cobalt blue eyes, light brown hair, highly intelligent but has a fierce temper. **

**Edgar Hansen - 13 years old. Kid brother. Lanky, tall for his age, soft shaggy brown hair, dark green eyes, stubborn but absolutely adorable, loveable and insecure at times. **

* * *

June 1984

Sig waited at the kitchen table glaring at the screen door, his anger growing by the minute. It was now 11:30 at night and his youngest brother, Edgar, was still not home. Norman, their middle brother, was watching television out in the living room. Or at least he was suppose to be. In reality, Norman was hanging around instead of going to bed in order to make sure his oldest brother didn't kill his youngest brother the minute he walked through the door.

Edgar had missed his curfew by two and half hours now and both brothers were starting to get very worried, although neither one of them would admitted it to the other.

Their mother had passed away very suddenly six months ago. A massive stroke, the doctor had said. They buried her three days before Edgar's 13th birthday.

Their father was devastated, retreating into his own world and said very little. He stayed home from Opie fishing season that year to be with his boys, not wanting to farm them out to family.

The three boys silently grieved the loss of their mother in their own ways. Sig buried his head in his school work and took a job working at the docks, repairing boats and equipment. Norman was always working the local hardware store, building engines with his friends and hanging out with his girlfriend. Both older boys were rarely home.

Edgar, being the youngest, took his mother's loss the hardest. He started skipping school and changed his circle of friends. He was on a constant drive to find some kind of adventure and the more dangerous it was, the more it appealed to him. His father seemed to be in a permanent fog and had no idea what he was up to. His brothers practically abandoned him as he almost never saw them anymore.

For Edgar, it was like he lost his entire family all at the same time.

It wasn't always like the way it was now. Although they were never a touchy feely kind of family, they always spent time with each other. Mom always made family dinners and stressed the importance of being together. They took vacations together and celebrated holidays together. The three boys loved each other very much but didn't ever communicate it verbally, taking a page right from their stoic's father's playbook. He was a quiet man who had a temper but kept it reigned on when it came to his boys. He just rarely showed them physical affection.

All that came from mom and when she left, so did the physical affection.

Edgar felt the loss of that affection the most, being sensitive and needing that kind of love more than his older brothers. He was a hard working kid, even at an earlier age, who almost always tried in school, did his chores and tried to stay out of trouble. Like most kids, he got into his fair share of trouble but it wasn't anything out of the norm.

Finally, with bills piling up and their savings dwindling, their father had to go fishing. The family owned a crab boat which their father captained. He had just left five days ago for the start of a two month Salmon trip.

Before leaving, their dad informed Sig, who was now 18 years old and a high school graduate, that he could not go him with him as he had promised last year. Instead, Sig was given the responsibility of taking care of Edgar for the summer. Norm, now 17 years old, could basically take care of himself.

Sig was painfully disappointed. He had wanted to fish this summer and have his dad start training him as co-captain. The last thing he wanted to do was stay home and baby-sit a 13 year old. But he accepted his father's decision because there was nothing either of them could do about. Mom was gone and everyone's lives had changed when she left.

Unfortunately for Sig, upon dad's departure, whatever was left of the leash Edgar still had himself on disappeared and the kid went hog wild. It was summer and Edgar failed his 7th grade year. The school essentially said they were just passing him up 8th grade because of the loss of his mother. Sig secretly thought the middle school just want to get rid of him.

Since dad left, Edgar was spending his summer coming and going from the house when he pleased. He blew off every chore, curfew and any other standing house rule. He started drinking, which Sig couldn't call him on since he himself starting drinking at Edgar's age.

But more concerning than any of that was Sig knew Edgar had starting hanging out with a very bad and dangerous crowd of older kids, some of which were not kids but young adults in their twenties. Sig knew these guys from school since most of them were in his class or the classes right before him. They were total losers, drug dealers, addicts and thugs and God knows what else. Sig was still acquaintances with one or two of them that actually worked for a living.

This group often hung out at a place called "The Shack" which was a run-down bar on the outskirts of town in the middle of nowhere. Lots of dangerous things happened at "The Shack" like accidental drug overdoses, fights that ended in murder and illegal gambling. One of the dumbest things Sig heard of was that people would hold dirt bike racing in the dark and bet on who would crash first. On the other hand, Edgar must have thought this was greatest idea since sliced bread because Sig had found out from a source that his brother was now a recent participant in this ridiculousness. Edgar, being a dirt bike racer with an awesome bike (suped up by their middle brother, budding engineer that Norm was) was drawn to this sort of activity like a bee to honey.

Sig was genuinely worried for his little brother. In all actuality, he was totally petrified and scared to death that something bad was going to happen to Edgar. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

Norman walked in the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and grabbed a can of Mug root beer. He popped the top and leaned against the refrigerator. "He's fine, you know. He'll be home any minute" he said , attempting to draw Sig out of his brooding.

"He's far from fine. You know where he is" Sig said, having already shared his source's information with his middle brother. "You've heard what it's like down there."

"Hey, you and I have done some pretty stupid stuff, too." Norm said with a chuckle.

Sig was a little irritated that Norm didn't seem to be getting the gravity of the situation. "Yes, stupid stuff like drinking our friend's parent's liquor or taking the car without permission. This is different. It's like Edgar's hell bent on getting himself killed. Those people he is hanging out with are a lot different that the kids we hung out with when we were his age. They don't play for fun. He is on a bad path, Norm, and you know it. Stop trying to play this down. It won't help him. If he doesn't stop this shit, he's going to end up dead by the end of the summer. Those guys down there won't hesitate to kill him if he crosses them."

_Sig is right_, Norm had to admit to himself. Their little brother was in big trouble and there was no one else around to help them. "So, what are YOU gonna do about it?" Norm asked, taking himself out of the equation and also curious to see how his older brother was going to handle this situation. He wondered for a minute if he needed to lock up the knives and sharp objects.

"Shit, I don't know. What do you think?" Sig asked, desperate for any kind of help he could find.

Norm shrugged his shoulders and turned his cobalt blue eyes to his oldest brother, "I hate saying this cause I feel like I'm selling him out but… ground him, take the bike away. Give him some kind of consequences that will keep him safe for awhile and maybe he'll change his mind about the direction he going."

Sig sighed and turned the same Hansen blue eyes to his short, stocky middle brother in return. "You hated saying that, huh? How do you think I feel actually doing it?" Sig asked regretfully.

Norman didn't get a chance to answer. Both brothers heard the motor bike pull up in the driveway. They turned and looked at each other.

Norm added quickly, for the sake of his little brother's life "Stay calm, Sig. I know it's hard for you but try to have patience. Remember, he shuts down when people yell at him." Norm got up to leave, saving his little brother the embarrassment of an audience when the law got laid down. He didn't go too far, just back into the living room and started "watching" TV again.

Sig took a deep breath and silently asked God for patience. He knew very well that patience was not strength for him. He would find a way, though, to be both patient and strong for his brother.

The screen door of the kitchen opened and a tall, lanky, shaggy haired kid walked in. Sig wondered for a moment how he was the blond one of the family when both his younger brothers had gorgeous light brown hair. Edgar was covered in dust and dirt from his sneakers to his white Metallic shirt. He had dirt smudged on his face and his hair was filthy.

Edgar saw Sig at the kitchen table and froze with the fined tuned instinct of a kid in trouble, big trouble. His dark green eyes grew wide. _Shit!_

_Please let this go ok_, Sig thought to himself.

"What time is it?" Sig asked with purpose.

"Late" Edgar replied with a tinge of attitude.

"What time is your curfew?" Sig asked

"Do I have one?" Edgar asked brazenly

Sig had to restrain himself for a minute. "You know you do, you always have. Your curfew is 9: oo. It's now 11:45. Where were you?"

Edgar couldn't get out of this question without lying. He hated lying to his brothers but he wasn't always completely honest with them either. _Oh, God let me pull this off_. Edgar was a terrible liar and he knew it. "I was hanging out with Matt. Must have lost track of time." He started rubbing at the dirt on his face.

Sig had him dead to rights. "I called Matt's house earlier. He's out of town at his dad's this weekend. You want to try again?"

_I'm cooked _Edgar thought. He couldn't give Sig the straight answer because his brother would kill him if he knew where he really was. So Edgar shook his head _no_ and said nothing.

Sig started as gently as he could "You were at "The Shack" racing your bike." It wasn't a question but a statement.

Edgar's eyes hit the floor. _How the hell does he know this? Guy must have spies everywhere. _Edgar continued to focus on rubbing the dirt and, perhaps, the skin right off his face.

Sig continued "You know you are not allowed down there. I know you know why. You're a smart kid. It's dangerous."

Edgar continued to maintain the 5th.

Sig sighed and added softly,"We were worried."

Edgar kept his eyes on the floor but was genuinely a little shocked at that statement. He didn't think his brothers cared where he was.

Sig continued again, trying to get his brother to look at him "What were you thinking? This isn't you. This isn't like you."

That got Edgar's attention. He flashed his dark green eyes at his brother in anger "How the hell would you know what I'm like? You're not here. You're never here. You're only here because dad is making you."

Sig lost his patience a lot faster than he hoped. "Damn it!" He slammed his hand on the table, causing Edgar to jump from the noise. "I wish dad were here but he's not."

_Neither is mom_ the thought hung between them.

"Maybe you wouldn't be acting this way if he was here." Sig tried to calm down, taking a breath, "Doesn't matter. I'm the lucky one that got put in charge. So, you're now officially grounded."

Edgar was stunned. His jaw dropped to the floor. "What?" was the only word he could manage to get out of his mouth.

"For the week," Sig finished softly, and then added "No bike until further notice."

The gravity of the situation was starting to become real and Edgar realized that his big brother was punishing him. He had the right, being the one left in charge. But the sting of it was unexpected. "You can't," Edgar pleaded, caught somewhere between the anger of being punished and just being angry at himself for being stupid.

"Believe me, I wish I couldn't. I wish I wasn't in this position," Sig said honestly.

Edgar was starting to lose it. "I bet you wish you weren't even here," he said sharply.

Sig looked at his brother and could see the kid was holding back the tears. "You know that's not true, Edgar. What's wrong with you? You never talk to me like this," Sig asked.

"Whatever. I'm going to get a shower," Edgar said as he started to cross the kitchen.

"Edgar, we're not done talking and you haven't been excused yet," Sig said firmly. _God, I sound like dad._

Edgar kept going "Fuck you, Sig," he added with so much hatred that Sig couldn't move quick enough to stop him. Maybe that was a good thing because who knows what would have happened next if he had.

Edgar stormed out of the kitchen and saw Norman on the sofa. He started to try and plead his case but Norman immediately put his hand palm side up towards him in the silent gesture of "I'm not getting involved." Edgar groaned in disgust and took the stairs two at a time.

Norm waited a minute, heard the shower and got up to go in the kitchen. Sig was still sitting at the same place as he was before Edgar got home.

Norm couldn't resist. "That went well" he said sarcastically.

Sig was still in a state of shock. "What the fuck was that? Where the hell did my baby brother go and who the hell is that brat that looks like him? He actually total me "Fuck you" and meant it. I mean, yeah, he's said it to me but only ever joking around."

Norm felt sorry for Sig. He felt sorry for Edgar, too. "Hey, give him a break; it isn't easy getting punished by your big brother. I know I'd struggle with it. But I'm perfect so I don't have to worry about it. I don't do anything to get punished for," he added with a smile, trying to get a smile from his brother as well.

Sig rolled his eyes. Norm got punished more than Sig ever did growing up, mostly because he liked to test the limits of their father's patience.

Norm added "Leave him be tonight. He just needs time."

"When the hell did you get so damn smart, little brother?" Sig asked.

"That's not the question. The question is 'how could you not notice before?'" Norm got up to go to bed and left Sig to sulk in private.

What did he expect? For Edgar to say, _hey, thanks for punishing me_, _I appreciated_. No, but the anger he saw in his brother's eyes told him that Edgar was mad at him for a lot more than just tonight. His brother was on an emotional bender that was about to end in disaster if someone didn't step in and do something about it. Sig had a very bad feeling in his stomach – the one that only came where there was a big storm on the horizon.

There was a big storm coming too. Sig went to bed after he heard the shower stop and Edgar slam his bedroom door. In the morning, Sig woke up to find Edgar gone. He went into his room to wake him up for breakfast and he was gone, bed still made from the night before. His window was wide open.

Sig heard Norm call up the stairs "Hey, bike's gone."

The only thought Sig had at that moment – _I'm gonna kill him_.


	2. The Shack

"I'm going to kill him!" Sig said with meaning, so angry his teeth were shaking. He was pacing the living room floor, not knowing what to do with himself. He wanted to throw something, punch something, anything to get this anger out. His little brother had openly defied him. Somewhere deep inside, Sig knew that it didn't have anything to do with that fact that Sig was the one he was defying. Whenever Sig had been left home to take care of his brothers in the past, like when mom and dad went away for their anniversary or out on a date, Edgar had always listened to his big brother and followed all the rules to the letter. Edgar was actually more respectful of his big brother than his parents sometimes, desperate to impress him and follow his lead. This current act was so out of character that Sig began to think his little brother had lost his mind.

Norm sat in the recliner, putting on his socks and shoes and getting ready for work, calmly ignoring the storm going on around him as if nothing was happening. "You're not gonna kill him" he said, eyes rolling, "Maybe Edgar just needed to blow off steam or something. Maybe he just went for a ride in the fields. He'll be back sometime today, I'm sure of it. He has to come home eventually" Norm tried his best to calm his brother.

Sig turned hard eyes on their middle brother. "And if he doesn't? What then?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Norm shrugged. "We'll go find him. Give him time. Let him come home on his own. Maybe he'll be home by the time we get back from work. There's nothing we can do about it now. I've got to go" he said, grabbing his work shirt from the back of the sofa. He looked over at Sig, still in the clothes he slept in. "You should get ready too before you ended up late for work and get yourself fired. Love to see you explain that one to dad." Norm tried to get his brother to focus on something else for the time being. Norm was confident Edgar would be home for dinner, by 9:00 tonight at the latest. Sig watched Norman leave out the front door and turned to head up the steps to get ready for work. He prayed very hard that Norm was right, that the kid would be ok, that nothing bad was happening to him and that he'd come home on his own. _Then I have to be the bad thing happening to him but at least he will be safe._

At 6:00 that evening, Norm walked through the back door into the kitchen. Sig was still dressed from work and was making dinner on the stove. Norm immediately looked around the room for evidence that Edgar had come home, then to Sig, who silently shook his head "NO".

Norm was not fazed. He was still confident Edgar would come bounding through the door by 9:00, his long established curfew time. Norm refused to believe their little brother would pull this stunt two nights in a row. He went upstairs and got changed into his much more comfortable worn jeans and t-shirt, his muscles popping through the sleeves. By the time he had come back into the kitchen, Sig had dinner on the table. Three plates full of fried flounder and boiled potatoes waited at their respective spots. Norm sat down and both brothers ate dinner in silence, each one carefully avoiding any glances towards the third plate that sat untouched in front of an empty chair.

* * *

The would-be occupant of the empty chair was waking up at that very moment with a killer hangover. Edgar opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings, forgetting where he was for a second. He sat up slowly and grabbed his head in pain. He groaned miserably. He had passed out the night (or perhaps morning before) on a bug infested, spring-exposed mattress on the floor of the abandoned wood mill. He looked around and saw some guys about Sig's age, maybe older, had started drinking again. These guys were his friends or at least he thought they were. They kind of took to him in a weird way, like a pet or a curiosity. It was entertaining for them to see how far this kid would go to impress them and what kinds of crazy stunts they could get him to do.

_But at least they take care of me and pay attention to me_, Edgar thought, _like my brothers use to do_. When Edgar had arrived back at "The Shack" last night after sneaking out of the house and taking his bike, he was angry and upset. He felt like the loneliest kid in the world. His brothers didn't want him. _They didn't even care about me_, he kept telling himself. His new found "Brothers" saw an opportunity and plied him with alcohol till he couldn't see straight, encouraging him to drink more and more till he passed out. Edgar liked to drink – it helped him forget about everything that hurt and that was a good thing.

He tried to stand but stumbled. He leaned against the wall for support. He felt like death itself. One of the guys saw him and came over. Edgar vaguely remembered the guy's name was El.

"Hey, Ed, how ya feeling buddy?" El asked and cruelly slapped him on the back of his head. Edgar winced in pain but tried to hide it. The other guys laughed and snickered.

"I'm fine" he replied.

Elliot smiled a very mean smile. "That's good cause you owe us for all that booze you drank last night. You brought your bike, right?"

Edgar was an amazing rider, often winning tournaments when mom was still alive. Sometimes Sig would even drive him to away tournaments and watch him race the entire day. Those things didn't happen anymore. But Edgar still had his skills, which his new "Brothers" liked to exploit on their make-shift race track. Edgar had made them quite a bit of money since a lot of unsuspecting people easily bet against a kid only to find out how good he really was.

Edgar didn't feel up to riding. He barely felt up to walking but he didn't want to make these guys mad. He had witnessed first hand some of the things they could do to people that made them mad. "Yea, I got it outside."

"Good" one of the guys said, "Cause you're racing tonight."

* * *

By 7:00, Norm had finished cleaning up the dishes and wiping down the counters. The untouched plate of food remained at its spot, a constant reminder that things in this household were far from right. After he couldn't avoid it any longer, Norm picked up the plate of food and placed it in the refrigerator. Sig had gone upstairs to change into his jeans and crisp white t-shirt. He came back downstairs, blond hair combed and neatly brushed.

Both brothers settled down to watch television in the living room, thought there were constant glances towards the grandfather clock that sat in the hallway. When clocked chimed eight bells merrily, neither brother looked at each other. At some point during the next hour, Norm moved his truck keys to the edge of the kitchen counter by the door and sat at the kitchen table, fiddling with some mechanical contraption he was trying to rework for his friend's new car radio. Sig wandered into the kitchen and sat down to read the newspaper, although he had no idea what he was reading because his mind kept wandering off. It was getting dark outside and the house was eerily quiet.

When the grandfather clock chimed the first time in an upcoming series of nine bells, Norm finally looked over to his brother. Both waited and counted each chime silently to themselves. As the ninth and last chime sounded, they waited until the noise finished reverberating throughout the quiet house.

When the chime had completely died down, Norm and Sig stood up together at the exact same time. "I'll drive" Norm said quickly, grabbing the keys to his truck and heading out the door, not even looking to see if Sig was following him.

* * *

Sig was grateful Norm was driving because he didn't think he could concentrate on anything except finding their brother. His anger had morphed over the course of the day into intense fear and apprehension. He was sick with worry over the thought that his little brother was in some kind of danger.

It wasn't long before they pulled off the main road and were now driving on dirt back roads, twisting and turning through a forest of trees and wilderness. "God, he drives his bike back here in the dark?" Norm said out loud, for the first time wondering what the hell Edgar was thinking.

"There are back roads from our house that aren't open to cars – a short cut, if you could call it that" Sig said disgustedly.

Norm wanted to asked his brother how he knew this but let it go.

Both brothers knew how to find this wayward hangout from the stories kids told in school. Norm had worked last summer, logging trees for his uncle's friend and had seen "The Shack" during his trips driving around the woods. Of course, he had seen it in the daytime. Seeing it at night was another thing. As they turned onto the last road, the path in front of them narrowed. There were cars and trucks parked on an abandoned wheat field.

Norm parked the truck away from the others and shut off the engine. Both he and Sig sat there for a moment and looked at the building sitting ahead of them. It was a converted wood mill that was practically falling down. Some of the building was in ruins and the windows were long gone, leaving only glass shards hanging from the window frames. There was light coming from the large building and the constant pumping of loud music. Next to the building was a small structure, newer but just as ominous. The neon bar sign outside glowed "The Shack" in the only cheery colors to be found in this desolate place.

"Where do you think he is?" Norm asked apprehensively.

Sig had a good idea. He pointed to the crowd gathered down the hill from the two structures. He could tell that the people were watching some kind of race and screaming and yelling loud, drunken obscenities.

"Are you ready for this?" Sig asked.

"Are you?" Norm responded with his own question.

Sig's only response was to open the pickup truck's passenger door, get out and shut the door. "Guess we're ready" Norm said to himself and an otherwise empty vehicle. He got out and shoved his keys in his jeans pocket but not before locking the doors to his baby.

Norm had to walk fast to catch up to his older brother. Sig slowed when he realized Norm wasn't right beside him. He slowed and waited till he could feel Norm's presence at his side before continuing at his fast pace. Sig already lost one little brother in this place, he wasn't about to lose the other one. They got to the edge of the race track and made their way through the crowd.

"We'll have to split up if we want to find him faster." Norm yelled over the loud engines and blaring music.

Sig hesitated at first but then nodded his agreement. They went their separate ways, one going left and one going right. Norm prayed he was the one that picked the correct direction and not Sig. Norm didn't just want to find Edgar faster, he wanted to find Edgar before Sig did, hence the idea of splitting up.

Norm worked his way through the crowd to the make-shift track, separating himself from the drunken bystanders. He noticed Sig had made his way to the opposite side and was looking around desperately. They both spotted Edgar at the same time. He was racing his bike. Norm immediately noticed his little brother was not wearing a helmet and driving recklessly, like something was wrong with him.

And there was something wrong with Edgar, very wrong. His head was killing him and his legs felt weak. He was hung over and hadn't eaten in two days. He could barely see in the moonlight and he was getting sicker by the minute from going around in circles and navigating dangerous bumps and turns. The other riders were out for blood and sense he was in a weakened state. They kept trying to push into him, causing him to swerve and weave all over the track.

Norm ran to the end of the most dangerous curve, a hair point turn where no one else was standing because of the fear of getting hit. Norm wasn't thinking, he just wanted to try and get to his brother anyway that he could. A glance to his left, away from the track made his blood run cold. _Shit, kid, do you know what you are doing? Do you know what's down there?_

As Edgar started to navigate the dangerous turn, he sensed he has going too fast. At that moment, another rider came up his tail and tried to bump him out of the way. Edgar felt himself lose control of the bike and careening out of control. He lost his hold on the track and was heading the wrong way. He looked up and saw his middle brother was directly in his path.

For Edgar, it was like a slow motion movie. He looked up and saw his brother directly in front of him. _How did he get here?_ He saw that he was about to hit Norman at full speed and kill him. Norm wasn't moving. Edgar felt a knot form in his stomach so tight it took the breath out of him. He knew he'd have to turn the bike hard in order to avoid hitting his brother, putting himself in danger of crashing and having the bike crush him. At the last minute, Edgar turned the bike hard, lost complete control and smashed hard to the ground. As luck (or maybe some kind of angel looking out for him) would have it, the bike kept going, hitting a nearby tree and dropping to the ground instead of on him.

For Sig, it all happened too fast. He watched his youngest brother lose control and fly off the track, heading directly towards his middle brother, who was frozen in place. _MOVE_, he screamed at him in his mind. He saw Edgar turn at the last minute and crash to the ground. He watched as the bike continued on without a rider, come in contact with a tree and stop.

Sig started running on legs that felt stuck in glue. He pushed people out of his way and raced up the small incline. When he got to where Edgar had fallen, he stopped dead. His baby brother lay curled on his side, motionless on the ground. Sig felt the world stop spinning. _Oh my God, he's dead, he's dead_ Sig kept saying in his head. He dropped to his knees in front of Edgar, praying to God and his mother that he was still alive. Sig barely noticed Norm come up beside him. Norm dropped to his knees and knelt next to his big brother. The rest of the crowd moved away, not caring what was happening and moving their attention back to the race.

Norm made a noise that Sig had never heard before. It was a guttural sound that came from a very dark place. Neither of them knew if they should touch Edgar or just continue kneeling there, waiting for some kind of miracle. It was like time stood still for only the three of them.

After an eternity, Edgar moaned softly and started moving slowly. Sig and Norm both collapsed against each other for a heartbeat and then started hovering over their little brother, calling his name and gently touching his arms and legs.

Edgar blacked out for a minute but came around to find both his big brothers hovering over him. He did a mental check of his body and found the only thing that really hurt was the knot in his stomach. He had a few scrapes on his ankle but otherwise he was fine. Miraculous, the three of them would say in later years when discussing the crash, leaving certain details out when retelling the story to friends.

"Edgar" Sig kept saying over and over.

"I'm ok, I'm ok" Edgar finally was able to reply. He rolled over onto this back.

"Are you hurt?" Norm asked. Edgar noticed that Norm sounded kind of strange.

"No, I think I'm alright, really." Edgar reassured him. "Help me up, will ya?"

Norm reached down and gently hoisted his brother up to his feet. He did a quick visual check for blood or broken bones but everything seemed fine. Norm was relieved that Edgar was ok. He glanced over at the mangled bike and then back to Edgar. Edgar was standing on his own, brushing the dirt from under his shirt. He really seemed fine. _Kid must have nine lives_ Norm laughed to himself.

"I'm gonna pull the truck around. There is no way were gonna get that bike up that hill in that condition. You ok here?" He asked Edgar.

"Yea, I fine." Edgar replied. "Go, stop worrying."

Norm gave a finally once-over to his little brother and headed up the hill to retrieve his pickup truck. He'd be back in a minute.

Once Norm had left, Edgar noticed that Sig was still kneeling on the ground, head bowed, staring at his hands. He hadn't moved.

"Sig?" Edgar questioned in a soft voice. He said his name again, louder, not sure if his brother heard him the first time.

Sig refused to look at him. He didn't even look up or acknowledge his brother. Edgar felt the knot in his stomach twist hard. _Maybe it's from the accident_, he told himself, knowing full well it formed in his belly before the accident happened. _Could be from the alcohol_ although the hangover had left and Edgar felt stone sober now. _I'm starving, might be that_ he thought. Edgar just stood there and watched the headlights of the truck come closer to them, illuminating the surrounding forest and piercing the darkness. _Don't think about it, can't live with it._

Norm maneuvered the truck around some trees and pulled up as close as he could. He left the headlights on and the truck running as he got out. He finally saw that Sig had not moved and that Edgar was avoiding looking at his oldest brother. _Not right now guys, let's get home_ he thought. "Sig, Sig," he yelled intently "I need your help, dude. I can't move this bike by myself. I could use some muscle and skinny over here isn't going to be of any use."

Sig was moved out of his daze by his brother's command. He stood up and brushed off the dirt from his jeans. He walked past his littlest brother like he didn't exist and helped Norm pick up what was left of the bike. They were both pretty strong guys, Sig with his height and broad shoulders, Norm with his defined biceps and they made quick work of lifting the bike onto the flatbed of the truck. Norm chained the bike down while Sig went and sat in the driver's seat. Norm looked into the cab window and saw that Sig was sitting in the driver's seat. He wasn't about to argue. He knew his big brother well enough to know that this was a precarious situation and he wasn't going to make it worse by getting into one of their petty fights about who was going to drive.

As Norm chained the bike down, he noticed Edgar hesitantly make his way over and wander to the back of the truck. He glance sadly at his bike.

"It's fixable" Norm said in his usual matter-of-fact way.

Edgar smiled a little. Norm always knew the right thing to say and at the right moment to get him to smile and give him a little reassurance. He missed that a lot lately. But Edgar wasn't really worried about the bike at the moment. He had bigger things to worry about.

Norm finished and hoped out of the truck bed. He shut the tailgate and made one last check that everything was secure. He then gently lead his still in shock little brother to the truck and opened the passenger door. Edgar shook his head in a silent _no_ about getting in first. He did not want to sit next to Sig on the ride home. Norm gave him a funny look and then hop in next to Sig. Edgar gave one last look at the place and got in next to Norm, shutting the door. Sig put the truck in drive and gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his high school class ring hurting his finger he was squeezing the wheel so hard . The three of them drove home in complete silence.


	3. The List

As Sig pulled up into the driveway, he put the truck in reverse. He carefully navigated the truck as he backed up to the garage, making it a little easier to get the mangled motor bike into the house. He put the truck in park and killed the headlights. After turning off the engine, he handed the keys back to Norman and got out without saying a word. He unlocked the back door with his own key and entered into the kitchen, flicking on the lights that illuminated the porch outside.

Norman sat in the truck with Edgar for a minute, waiting for him to get out. He couldn't help but noticed that his little brother reeked of alcohol and pot. Norm assumed Sig noticed this as well on the silent ride home, even with the windows open. He also noticed that his little brother was shaking and furiously rubbing at his cheek.

Edgar was still staring out the windshield, not wanting to ever go back into the house. _Maybe I can live here in the truck for the rest of my life_, he thought hopelessly.

Norm figured Edgar wasn't going to move anytime soon so he got out of the truck on the driver's side and shut the door. He walked around the vehicle and opened the passenger side door. "Let's go, kid. You're stinkin' up my truck" Norm offered gently. For a second, he thought Edgar wasn't going to move but then his brother took a deep breath, sighed and slinked out of the seat. Wordlessly, he followed behind Norman and went into the house.

Sig had his back turned to him, heating up something at the kitchen stove and boiling water in the kettle. Norm hung up his keys and went through the side door of the kitchen that leads into garage. A second later, Edgar heard the garage door go up. He wondered if he should go help Norm when Sig said to him, "Go get a shower. Be back down in this kitchen in twenty minutes. Bring those dirty clothes with you." Sig kept his back to him when he said it.

Edgar didn't reply and went and did as he was told. He climbed the stairs and headed to the bathroom. He stripped off his t-shirt and couldn't help but gag from the smell of stale smoke and beer. He assumed that he smelled even worse. He took off the rest of his clothes and jumped in the shower. The hot water felt wonderful and he vigorously scrubbed the mud and dirt of his body, washing his hair twice to get all the dust out of it. He was reminded of the scrapes on his ankle when the hot water hit them but he ignored the minor pain.

After shutting off the shower water, he climbed out of the tub and dried himself off with a nearby towel. The towel itself was dirty when he was done so he added it to the pile of dirty clothes sitting on the floor. He grabbed another towel and wrapped it around himself. As he walked to his room, he heard his brothers wrestling the bike into the garage. He dressed quickly, putting on clean boxers and fresh jeans as well as one of his favorite shirts – it was one of Norm's old hand-me-downs that just fit him, even if it was a little large. Edgar had other shirts to pick from, newer ones that were bought only for him, but this was his favorite because it reminded him of Norman. Maybe it was silly but he felt closer to his brothers when he wore their old clothes. Other younger kids hated wearing hand-me-down clothes from their older siblings. Edgar, on the other hand, was always proud to wear anything his brothers owned.

When he put the old shirt on, he realized that the knot in his stomach was still there, tugging and pulling in funny but uncomfortable ways. He never felt anything like it. It hurt, like a constant cramp or aches that he couldn't get too in order to rub it away. It was very annoying so he tried to ignore it.

He returned to the bathroom and combed out his damp hair. It would dry quickly because his hair was so straight. He looked in the mirror at himself for the first time. He looked like shit, circles under his eyes and shallow complexion. _Who am I and what the hell is wrong_ _with me_ he wondered. _No time to think about it now, Sig said twenty minutes and I'm not pushing my luck._ He grabbed the pile of clothes off the floor and headed downstairs.

When he walked into the kitchen holding the dirty clothes, he saw a plate of flounder and potatoes and a hot cup of tea sitting at his place on the kitchen table. There was a fork and spooning sitting next to it. Despite everything that just happened, his brothers still took the time to make sure he had a hot dinner and a place at the table. For whatever reason, the small gesture from his older brothers almost made Edgar collapse to the kitchen floor and cry, and he would have, if he wasn't so hungry.

Norm came out of the garage just then and walked past him wordlessly, grabbing the pile of dirty clothes he held in his arms. Norm took the clothes into the laundry room down the hall. Edgar sat down to eat and heard the washer turn on. He ate the offering on the plate and thought to himself that it was the best food he ever tasted. Sig was an awesome cook, that was for sure. The tea was hot and felt good on his dry throat.

As he finished his meal, he heard the garage door getting pulled shut as it hit the concrete floor. He watched his oldest brother walk in from the garage, turning out the light behind him. Sig still didn't look at him and walked over to the sink, washing the grease and dirt off his hands. Edgar kept his head down and continued to shovel food into his mouth. Norm returned to the kitchen and also washed his hands at the sink, pushing his oldest brother slightly out of the way. Sig ignored the playful shove and walked down to sit at the head of the table, still avoiding any looks in Edgar's direction. When Norm was done washing and drying his hands, he tossed the used paper towel in the trash and went to leave.

"Sit down" Sig said with a voice of authority neither brother ever heard before. "We are having a family meeting" he added, sounding a little more like himself.

Norm sat without complaint, thinking of the last time they had a family meeting. It was not long before mom died, right before Christmas. Mom liked to have family meetings before holidays, especially Christmas, where she would gleefully go over plans for visiting relatives and dates for parties. The Christmas family meeting always included her yearly instructions on how she didn't want them to buy her any presents, dad included, adding she had everything she ever wanted. She also always reminded them that NO presents were to be open Christmas morning until everyone had eaten breakfast. She reminded them of these rules from the time they were little up until she died. They could practically say they words out loud before they came out of her mouth but they would listen intently like they never heard them ten times before, even dad listened quietly. Regardless, mom always found a pile of presents under the tree with her name on them. Without fail, one of the presents always contained a piece of expensive jewelry – this one was from dad – and she would cry and say it was too much. Then she would make it a point to wear the new jewelry to church, displaying it proudly.

Norman drifted off with the happy memories only to be brought back to the present with the sound of Edgar washing off his dishes and putting them in the drying rack. Quietly and quickly, Edgar resumed his place at the table, eyes focused on the design of the wooden table and hand rubbing at his hair.

Sig seemed like he was getting ready to say something so Edgar and Norm waited respectfully. Sig folded and unfolded his hands several times. He took a deep breath and started "Tomorrow is Sunday, dad will be calling home before the boat leaves the harbor" he explained, almost to himself. He continued, "When dad calls, I'm going to beg him to come back home."

Norm and Edgar's heads shot up in a second and they both started talking at once.

"No, please, please don't" Edgar started, not afraid of his father coming home but scared to death to be the cause of the family's financial ruin.

"We need the money, Sig. Dad has to go. He's been planning this for months and it's too late to hire another captain. What are you thinking? He can't just come back now!" Norm added.

'I'm thinking I can't handle this. I can't" Sig said with finality.

Edgar was painfully aware that he was the "this" in Sig's statement. "Sig, I promise, I'll listen, I'll be good. I won't go down there anymore" Edgar pleaded, trying to convince his brother to change his mind.

For the first time since the argument last night, Sig turned and looked his littlest brother in the face. He looked Edgar straight in the eye and said with meaning, "I don't believe you. I can't trust you anymore."

Edgar felt like Sig just punched him in the face. He physically winced from the pain of those two statements coming out of his brother's mouth and being directed right at him. His eyes dropped to the floor. If he could have, he would have crawled underneath the table and curled up in a ball. The knot in his stomach suddenly got worse.

Sig saw the pain cross Edgar's face but ignored it. He went on "This is too big for me to handle. We can't spend the summer like this. I can't do it."

Norm recognized that Sig was on the edge and tried to reason with him. "Come on, ground the kid for a good long while (He flashed Edgar a look that read 'No, I'm not sorry I said it') and move on."

"Yea, cause that worked out great this time, Norm" Sig dripped with sarcasm. "He almost got killed. He almost got YOU killed" Sig yelled at his middle brother, getting red in the face.

The knot in Edgar's stomach took a hard turn at that statement and he felt like he was going to be sick.

"Don't drag me into this. It was my decision to go down there. I can take care of myself." Norm said, showing anger for the first time. He was angry that Sig would make Edgar feel guiltier than he already apparently was. "Besides, he's worth it." Norm added with a glance towards Edgar, trying to make the kid smile. This time, it didn't work. Edgar continued to stare at the table.

"Norm, you handle things, then" Sig said with frustration.

"Oh no, big brother, NO WAY. Dad left you in charge for a reason. You're the only adult in this house now." Norm was never so grateful to only be seventeen years old.

Edgar listened to his older brothers argue in front of him like he wasn't even there. He hated to hear them argue in such anger. He hated himself for being the reason for the argument. Then a solution came to him, a very scary solution. To this day, he secretly blamed the knot in his stomach for coming up with the very scary solution.

He raised his eyes to his brothers and found his courage. He spoke clearly, "Either way, if dad came back now or at the end of the summer and finds out what happened, he'll give me a lickin' for sure."

Both Sig and Norm turned their attention to their youngest brother, having temporarily forgotten he was there. Despite everything Edgar had done and deserving what their father was going to do to him, both brothers gave him a sympathetic look. Edgar was correct. He had a lickin' coming to him sooner or later.

"Yea, dad will strap you this when he gets back" Sig said sadly, not wanting to lie and give his brother false hope. Sig knew all to well that this was one of those rare occasions that their dad would spank one of them with the strap.

Edgar looked his oldest brother for a second and somehow managed to quietly ask, "Can't you just do it?"

Sig looked at Edgar like he just grew a second nose on his face. "You can't be serious?" he asked incredulously.

Edgar took a deep breath and said, "I am. This way, dad can stay with the boat and fish and…I…still… get punished. Even if dad comes home now, it'll take him a week to get back here. I hate the wait now matter how long it is, one week or six weeks, it's still torture."

Sig and Norm knew exactly what Edgar meant by "the wait."

Sig asked Edgar with all seriousness now, "You want ME… to…spank you?" barely getting the word out.

Edgar answered with all honesty, "No, I don't" his voice a little shaky, "But it's gonna happen anyway. I'd much rather just get it over with then have it hanging over my head."

Sig got a little suspicious, "You think I'd go easier on you than dad?"

For the first time, Sig saw a little fear in Edgar's eyes when he answered, "No, I wouldn't never expect you to" Edgar started thinking of the many years of tough roughhousing he endured at the hands of his biggest brother. Sig could be pretty mean sometimes. _Maybe I should have thought about this a little more before opening my big mouth_.

Sig realized how serious his little brother was about this. He hated seeing the fear in his eyes. He knew why Edgar was afraid and he knew what his little brother was asking him to do.

Sig began to think of things that were very painful for him to remember. In order to fully understand what Edgar was asking, one had to understand how discipline worked in the Hansen household.

Mom never handled dishing discipline out very well. When the boys were little, the worse they got from their mom was some time standing in the corner. Mom was more about "the List." From the time Sig was about four or five years old, he could remember his mother's List. The List was a piece of paper, divided in two columns with their names at the top that hung on the refrigerator while their father was away. Later, a third column was added with Edgar's name. When they were very young and misbehaved, mom would point or refer to the blank list. That was usually enough to keep them under control. On the occasion when it wasn't, whatever misbehavior had been caused was written down on the List under the offender's name, often time in pencil. Whatever was written down was something dad was going to handle when he got home, regardless of how long it would take for him to return. Sometimes things would sit on the List for weeks or even months before dad came back from fishing, serving as a constant reminder of what was waiting for them. Very often, the offenses were magically erased by mom before he came home. This became a game for Sig and Norm, later Edgar too, to see who could have the most on their list before their mom erased everything. They were rowdy boys after all.

Every now and again, one of them would get into what the three of them referred to as "Big Trouble" list offenses. They could tell which were the "Big Offenses" easily because mom would write them on the List in INK. Some of the classic "Big Offenses" were when Norman stole candy from the grocery store or Sig caused major damage to his younger brothers in anger. As they got older, the "Big Offenses" got bigger, like when Sig took the car without permission (or a driver's license) or when Norman snuck a girl into the house in the middle of the night (they honestly didn't think mom was ever going to recover from that one) or when Edgar almost blew the house up playing with firecrackers in the basement. Usually one of them would have something written in INK on the List by the time dad got home from each trip, much more so when they were older than younger.

It would take dad a day or two to recover from his travels before he'd look at his wife's List. This happened to coincide with their mother needing to go to the store or finding some other excuse to leave the house. She would take the son or sons with clean list with her and treat them to ice cream and a movie. Essentially, she didn't want to be around when the List was handled by their father. She also didn't want their brothers around either. The lucky brother or brothers who got to go on the special trip tried to enjoy it but often times they couldn't help but feel bad for the brother or brothers left at home.

Dad handled all things on the List in the same manner. He wasn't a cruel or mean man but he was strict and tough on his boys. He was never angry when he punished them. If there was an offense that mom felt warranted the List, it was pretty serious and he dealt with it the best he knew how. He'd call the offender into the kitchen after mom left the house. He wouldn't ask about the offense. He didn't ever ask for an explanation. He never talked about what happened. He simply would get the strap that was hanging inside the door jam of the pantry door and stand and wait. There was no arguing or crying or pleading. The offender would lean over the kitchen table and dad would let them have it.

When they were little, he'd give them two or three light but effective licks with the strap, always telling them how many they were getting and giving just enough to scare them and make them think twice about stealing candy or giving each other black eyes. As they got older and the offenses grew in severity, so did the manner and number of licks. Depending on the offense, sometimes they took the strap over jeans, sometimes just boxers, taking the instruction from their father. The number and the strength of the licks also increased, although dad would always tell them the number of licks to expect. He was a man of his word. The amount of licks was never excessive and their father never left welts on them, but it hurt like hell. All three of them tried very hard to take the spanking quietly and respectfully, stoic and reserved like their father. Of course there were tears but they kept it to a few that would run down their cheeks and brushed them off as quickly as possible.

As much as the spanking hurt, nothing hurt more than knowing they had disappointed their father and that they had let him down in some way. They wanted their father to know that they'd try harder, do better, anything. Sadly, there was never an opportunity to say how sorry they were for what they did and ask for forgiveness.

After they had taken their spanking, dad would say, "Let's not have this conversation again", put the strap back on its hook in the pantry and leave without a word. When they were older and compared notes, Norm shared that he found the "Let's not have this conversation again" comment hysterical. "The Old Man had barely said a word" he said with a laugh. There was never any comfort before or after the spanking. There was no chance to talk about anything and feel better afterwards.

Each of them would handle the afterwards differently. Edgar always hid in his room the rest of the day. Norm would go watch television or fix something in the garage, like nothing happened. Sig, on the other hand, would stay in the kitchen long after his father had left. He'd stand in front of the kitchen table and wait. He waited and prayed. He prayed that one time, just one time, his father would return to kitchen and tell him he was forgiven, that everything was ok, that he still loved him and would comfort him till he felt better. It never happened but Sig always waited, ramrod straight at the kitchen table and prayed hopelessly. The only sign of forgiveness was that the List was gone. Punishment had been served effectively and they felt somewhat better, maybe relieved after waiting so long for it, but it was done in a very cold and distant way each and every time. Maybe that was because the punishment was so far removed from the offense or maybe it was because their father didn't know what to say or how to show affection. Whatever the reason, that was how it was always done.

And that was what Edgar was asking of his oldest brother at this very moment. Of course he was, that was what he always got so that was what he was expecting. And Sig knew in his heart that there had to be something different – maybe not so different in the middle part but the beginning and the afterwards had to be different.

Sig looked over at his youngest brother. He took a breath and asked, "If I do this, I'm going to do it my way, the whole way. Do you trust me enough for that?"

Now Edgar really looked frightened but he trusted his brother with his life. He didn't know what Sig meant but he answered "Yes, I trust you."

Sig asked quietly, "If I'm going to do this, I'm really going to do it. Do you know what I mean?"

Edgar kind of understood that question. His brother was going to hurt him, plain and simple. "Yes, I understand it hurts, believe me I understand."

Sig sighed, "We'll talk more in a little bit. I want you to go to your room and wait for me. I'll be up in a few minutes, maybe a little longer."

Edgar now looked totally confused. He never got punished in his room. Neither did his brothers, at least that he knew of. Edgar's eyes drifted over to the pantry door that stood off the kitchen. Should he get the strap now and take it with him or would Sig bring it up?

Sig followed his brother's eyes and could read his thoughts. "It's ok, Edgar. Just go to your room now."

Edgar looked back at Sig and then got up to leave. Sig grabbed his wrist as he walked past him. "I won't make you wait long. I'm not trying to make this worse. I just need time to calm down and think. OK?"

_Why is he being so considerate of my feelings_, Edgar wondered. It made the strange pain in his stomach hurt more. This was all very strange and not what he had expected to happen.

What was stranger was Edgar's response to the question. "Yes, sir" he answered quietly.

Sig almost fell out of the chair. Maybe it was just force of habit with dad that made Edgar call him "sir." He never called Sig that before. Somehow, it just felt wrong but appropriate for the current situation. Sig brushed it off for the moment.

He let go of Edgar's wrist and said quietly, "Ok, I'll see you in a few minutes, right?" referring to Edgar's escape out the window the night before.

Edgar wanted to say _you can trust me to be there_ but he lost the trust his brother had for him and it would have been pointless to say it. He simply nodded his head several times and with a final glance towards Norman, who sat stone-faced, Edgar left for his room.


	4. I Rest My Case

Both Sig and Norm watched their little brother walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Sig mentally prepared himself for FOUR upcoming very difficult conversations, each one difficult in its own separate way.

Norm waited and listened for Edgar's bedroom door to open and shut quietly. He then turned and looked at his older brother.

This was the start of the first difficult conversation.

"You can't do this" Norm started immediately, "you can't."

Sig put his palms flat on the wood of the table, steadying himself. He looked over at Norm with an expression of resignation. "I don't want too" Sig said in a whisper.

"Then don't" Norm answered back softly.

Sig pushed the chair back from the kitchen table and stood up. He walked over to the sink, grabbed a cup from the cabinet and let the water run cold. He filled his cup with ice cold water and started sipping slowly. He kept his back to Norm and half-heartedly listened as Norm begin to speak. Sig just kept staring out the kitchen window and drinking the icy water, trying to get the lump in his throat to go away. He noticed that the cup trembled slightly in his hand.

He listened to Norm go on about how Edgar was a good kid, which was true, and that he just made a big mistake, nothing bad really happened, he'd learn from it on his own and other things in endless defense of the baby of the family. Sig recognized how much Norman was like mom and he loved him all the more for it.

Sig listened for awhile and then stopped listening. He stared out the window at the backyard. The three of them had spent a lot of time out there over the years, playing baseball and soccer, chasing each other around and roughhousing, just being wild and crazy, just being brothers. Sometimes they would play out there all day, only stopping when their mother insisted they come in for lunch or dinner. Even when they got older, the three of them would still hang out in the backyard with each other and talk about lots of different things, like being fishermen when they graduated from high school and the pretty girls they wanted to marry someday.

Sig missed those times. He loved having brothers. Yes, it was hard being the oldest most of the time and having to put up with some of their annoying habits, like Norman hogging up the telephone and Edgar's stupid Saturday morning cartoons (which he still watched) but deep down, Sig loved both of them more than life itself. He couldn't live with himself if something happened to either of them. He'd gladly sacrifice his own life in their place. Sig would do anything in the world if it meant that they were safe and ok. Anything, no matter how much it hurt and without a second thought to the consequences that came with it. A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G!

When he finished drinking his water, he put the cup on the counter and turned around to look at Norm. Norm was still going on about how everything would be fine, Edgar just needed time, wait and see is the best approach, etc. He stopped in mid-stream of his closing argument when he saw the look on Sig's face. He knew his arguments in defense of his youngest brother were now pointless.

Still, Sig needed Norman not only to understand but to give his blessing. That would take some crafty explaining. He sat down across the table from Norman and spoke slowly.

"Norm" he begin with purpose and a sigh, "Our little brother is asking, ASKING me to do this. Can you imagine how difficult it had to be for him to do that?"

Norm started playing with his fingernails.

"I don't like this" Norm said, sounding a little more like seven then seventeen.

"Which part, that your little brother is going to take a spanking or that I'm the one giving it?" Sig asked honestly.

Norm was torn on that question. After a thought, he shrugged and said, "Both, I guess."

"Ask yourself, last night when he didn't come home till almost midnight, how worried were you?" Sig asked.

"A little" Norm replied hesitantly.

"And this morning, when we woke up and found that he had been gone all night and had not returned, how worried were you?" Sig asked.

"A little more" Norman replied, feeling the trap closing in around him.

"And when he didn't come home in time for dinner or his curfew, how worried were you then?" Sig asked.

"A lot" Norm rolled his eyes at his big and annoyingly intelligent brother.

Sig went in for the kill, no point in dragging it out any longer than it had to be. "And when you saw him laying on the ground, completely still and lifeless, thinking he was dead, you made a sound that made ME think someone had stabbed you directly in your heart with a sharp blade and ran it through. Tell me, Norman, honestly, at that moment, would you have done anything, anything in the world, to prevent this all from happening or from happening again?"

Norm was reliving the moment for the first time since it happened and the last image he saw in his mind was his younger brother's body laying on the ground, so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. Norman could still feel the knife in his heart. And he knew in an instant that Sig was going to do this and he knew why. _The defense rests, Your Honor_.

Sig could tell Norm was mentally reliving the past 24 hours and saw the acceptance of the situation in his eyes.

"You get it?" Sig asked finally.

"Yes, completely" Norm said as he got up and grabbed the keys from the hook by the kitchen door.

"Where are you going?" Sig said, surprised by his brother's sudden movement.

"I'm going out to get some ice cream and see a movie." Norm replied with a straight face.

Sig asked desperately, "Can I come with you?"

Norm finally smiled. "Is your List blank?" he asked.

"Was it ever?" Sig asked with a smile back. Then the smile faded and he got very serious. "Norman, I need you to be ok with this?"

Norm looked hard at his oldest brother. It was like Sig had aged right before his eyes. His shoulders slumped and were heavy with the burden he now carried, a burden that was too damn heavy for an 18 year-old to have so soon in adulthood. Norm understood what Sig was asking of him. He was asking Norm to give him the green light and take just a little of that burden off his shoulders. Well, the green light came with some conditions.

"Just promise me, please, you won't be (Norm didn't know how to put it)….mean about it" hoping Sig understood what he was really asking.

"That will NOT be a problem, as a matter of fact, I may have to get a little mean to see it through to the end." Sig said ominously.

Norm didn't quite understand that but he took it as a good sign. Norm went on with his conditions. "You'll be patient?"

"Yes, very, I promise that" Sig said, almost to himself.

Norm continued, "No yelling, he doesn't like yelling, he….

"….shuts down. I know, no yelling" Sig promised.

Norm tried stalling a little with his usual sarcastic humor. "I'll be back in two hours, I'm really going over to Amanda's house and watch a movie with her. When I get back, I'm not going to have to scrub blood up off the floor, right?" he asked with a crooked smile.

Sig was getting a little impatient, then remembered his promise. He rolled his eyes towards Norm and said, "Yes, no blood on the floor. Ok, Norm, if there is nothing else, are you going to be ok with this or not?"

It was one thing to accept this was going to happen, it was another thing to say it out loud. He knew in his heart that Sig loved both him and Edgar very much and he knew Sig would never really hurt Edgar severely or permanently. He trust Sig as much as Edgar did. Norm hesitated for only a second, shrugged his shoulders and finally replied, not with a yes or no but…

"Needs to be done." He gave one last look towards Sig and felt very, very sorry for both brothers that he was leaving at home. He also thought as he left the house without another word, _I never would believe I'd actually be grateful to be the middle child in this family_.

First difficult conversation completed, Sig sighed, feeling no relief.


	5. Promises

Sig listened to the sound of the truck pulling out of the driveway. He stood up from the kitchen table and went outside into the still summer night air. There was not a cloud in the sky and he could see stars for miles. It was still hot from the summer sun and the air was perfectly still, not even a soft breeze to bring relief from the heat. The crickets chirped endlessly and he could see the fireflies dancing in the backyard. Everything around him was still and quiet.

Sig sat down on the porch steps and pulled out a cigarette from his t-shirt pocket. He lit it with a lighter from his jeans' pocket and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out slowly in front of him. He had picked up this terrible habit from their father, who smoked as long as Sig could remember. Norman HATED it, hated the smell in the house and would go around disinfecting and opening all the windows (even in the dead of winter) the minute their father left to go fishing. Sig respected his brother's dislike for the smell and habit and always smoked outside of the house, even when he could get away with smoking inside when his parents weren't around. Sig already regretted taking up the habit and knew it would be a life-long struggle to quit. Normally smoking would calm his nerves but it didn't seem to be helping him at this moment. The cigarette butt was an indicator of how badly his hand was trembling.

This was the start of the second difficult conversation. This was the conversation he was going to have with himself, at least he thought it would be with just himself. Years later, when he was older, he realized this conversation was with someone else.

Sig had had a lot of time to think about things on the quiet ride home from "The Shack." He knew that Edgar wasn't completely to blame for everything that happened in the last two days, although there was a lot he had to answer for. Sig wasn't stupid. He recognized that Edgar was looking to replace the attention and time he use to get from his big brothers, the attention and time that got taken away from him when their mom died and the family started to fall apart. Sig accept that some of loss was poor timing that coincided with the loss of their mother. It was normal for older brothers to start spending more time with girlfriends and friends than their family. It was normal for older brothers to start working part-time jobs and develop other interests.

What was not normal was for older brothers to avoid coming home every chance they could get because they couldn't bare to see the blank and confused expression on their father's face or watch him walk around aimlessly trying to find where "she" had kept this or that hidden item. It was not normal for older brothers to avoid being in the house because they couldn't look at the Easter decorations sitting still in their storage container in the garage because no one bothered to put them up this year. It was not normal for Norman to come home and sit in his truck for over an hour, trying to find the courage to walk through the door and not have mom sitting at the kitchen table waiting with two hot cups of tea and loads of questions about his date or day at school. It was not normal for Sig to avoid walking past the stain on the carpet in the upstairs hallway, where he had accidentally spilled mom's favorite perfume years ago but the smell still lingered to this very day.

Norman and Sig had mentally and physically escaped. Edgar had been left behind with no way to escape and no one to guide him or be there for him. His big brothers had let him down. So he found other, much more dangerous methods of escaping that were fun and exciting and thrilling and in the end, only temporary.

Sig began to make a list, a habit that apparently ran in the family. It was a list of promises he made to himself. He didn't need to write them down in pencil or ink. He wrote the list down in his head and on his heart in blood.

**PROMISE #1** – When this is all over, starting tomorrow, I am going to spend every chance I get with my brothers, especially Edgar. Norm will be included too, even if we have to drag him along kicking and screaming. We are going to start doing again all the things we use to do before mom died. We'll put the God damn Halloween decorations up together, like we use to do with mom each October, no matter how difficult it will be to open the box for the first time without her.

Sig went on in his head for awhile, thinking of things like putting up decorations and making special cranberry sauce for Thanksgiving and a million other things they did with their mom over the years. He thought of playing soccer in the backyard and taking Edgar to tournaments and other things that they did together without mom. _I am also going to help that kid with his schoolwork or God only knows what will happen, _he vowed silently.

When he couldn't think of anything else he wanted to do with his brothers, his attention returned to the matter at hand, although he would have liked to ignore those thoughts for a few more minutes, maybe years even.

There was the constant and frightening idea that maybe after this was all said and done, Edgar wouldn't want to spend time with him anyway. Maybe his little brother was going to hate him or be afraid of him for the rest of his life because of what was about to happen. This thought was one Sig was most afraid of. _I just want to be brothers, I just want to his big brother_, he thought sadly, _I don't want to be the bad guy in his life_.

Norman last words came back to Sig just then, _needs to be done_. Sig wondered to himself _how does that guy know just the right thing to say all the time. Can't love Edgar and be his big brother if he's dead. _Sig asked himself _does the fear of him hating me out way the fear of losing him forever? _

Sig answered his own question without any hesitation or regret. He didn't even need to think about that one.

For the first time, Sig started to really think about how he was going to handle punishing his youngest brother. For a second, he thought, _I can do this, be just like dad, call the kid down, bend him over the table, steel my heart and give him the strapping of his life. Easily done, right? Over in a few minutes, right? We could move on like nothing happened and all go to sleep. Perhaps this is a good solution. Edgar could take it. He's a tough kid. Come to think of it, I could single-handedly take credit for building up his toughness and tolerance to pain over the years from all the times I wrestled him to the ground and squeezed him till he was red in the face and gasping for air. _

Sig laughed at his own thoughts. There was no way in hell he could use the strap on his brother. It brought back too many bad memories. Yes, he knew his brother could handle the strap, take it like a man, so to speak. He didn't think his brother was a wuss, quite the opposite in fact. Edgar was pretty tough, often enduring lots of pain from his brothers' roughhousing before conceding defeat. Sig was always secretly impressed by the kid's stubbornness and determination. Unfortunately, now all of those things were working against him.

The goal of this punishment, Sig began overanalyzing things (one of his worst habits) was two-fold. Sadly, he'd have to inflict enough hurt in order to send the message to Edgar that his current path in life was not going to be tolerated by his family any longer. Secondly, taking it like a man was not what Edgar needed right now. What Edgar really needed was the emotional release the pain caused. Sig was positive about that. Edgar had so much hurt and anger and pain build up inside of him, it was slowly killing him. It was the emotional release that would be the hardest on both of them. Emotions and feelings were so bottled up all the time that it was a wonder one of them hadn't self-destructed – well, maybe Edgar was self-destructing. Sig didn't know if he could handle Edgar's emotions coming out.

Sig always hated seeing Edgar in pain. The thought of him crying was enough to make his blood run cold. _How the hell am I going to handle that_, he wondered, _especially since I will be the one causing it_. That was when he made his second promise to himself.

**PROMISE #2** – I am going to do this with more compassion and affection and patience than I have ever let show to anyone but once I start this, I will see it through to the end, no matter how much it hurts both of us.

Sig thought about himself for a minute and he honestly didn't know if he could handle his own emotions coming out, which would be inevitable. That's when he made the third promise on the list.

**PROMISE #3** – I am going to stop hiding how I feel and pushing away feelings like they don't exist. I am going to be extremely honest with my brothers about everything from this moment on. I don't care if they don't want to hear it.

Finally, he made the promise all good big brothers make at some point in their lives.

**PROMISE #4** – Lead by example. I am going to accept that I have a responsibility to set the tone in this house, only usurped by my father and no one else.

Sig figured he'd made enough promises for today except when he went to reflect on his list, he thought about his mother and her lists. Mostly, he just thought about his mother. _Why don't we ever talk about her. It's like she never existed in this house. We don't let ourselves grieve. We don't let each other grieve_. Sig suddenly realized that they were dishonoring their mother's memory by not talking about her and he wanted to cry. Instead he made room for one more promise.

**PROMISE #5** – I am going to talk about mom whenever I want. I am going to grieve openly and honestly for her. I'm not going to run away when my family grieves for her but stay and grieve with them.

Sig thought about his mom and the love she showed them everyday. He closed his eyes and prayed that she would give him the strength to keep all of these promises. With his eyes still closed in prayer, his ear caught the sound of something above his head. He opened his eyes and looked up. The wind chime his brother Edgar had made for his mother rattled very softly. Sig had to laugh when he thought of that thing. Edgar had made it in wood shop just this past autumn and gave it to their mother on her birthday, her last birthday. Sig, having forgotten about his mother's birthday, felt like the biggest jerk in the world. It must have shown on his face because Edgar came to his rescue without a second thought. He presented the wind chimes to his mother and said, "These are from Sig, Norm and me, but I made them." Of course, mom cried like she always did when she got these kinds of gifts and said, "They are beautiful, my baby made these?" she asked of Edgar. Edgar, being the big 12 year old kid that he was, took offense to being called a baby and said sheepishly, "I'm not a baby." Mom replied like she always did when Edgar said this, "You'll always be my baby" and proudly went outside to hang the chimes up off the porch roof.

Sig said out loud to the darkness, in a whisper and his voice breaking a little, "Mom, your baby's in a lot of trouble and I need your help." Sig felt the first tear slip down his cheek and he let it go. He couldn't do this, he couldn't hurt her baby.

Sig was startled when the wind chime rattled again but louder, almost as if someone had brushed against it a second time impatiently. He waited to feel the breeze on his face that caused the movement. Nothing. There had been no breeze whatsoever this night, no wind, no cars passing by, nothing. The rattle stopped on its own and Sig listened to noise float away.

Being a fisherman like his father and his father before him, Sig knew that there were things on this earth that happened and just could not be explained. Those things were called "signs" and should never be ignored.

He put out his cigarette, found the strength to get up and go back into the house. He shut and locked the back door, not worrying about Norman, who had his own key to get in. Without so much as a glance at the pantry door, he walked through the kitchen, shut out the light and headed upstairs.

He passed Edgar's bedroom door and headed into his parent's room. He flipped the lights on and walked around the bed that remained made since the day his father left to go fishing. He went over to his parent's closet and opened the folding doors. His mother's clothes still hung on half the rack, her personal items, like her makeup and jewelry sat in little boxes stacked on the floor. No one had the heart to mention to dad that these things should be packed up or given away.

On any other day, seeing all these things would cause Sig to run out of the house and bury his thoughts in work or girls or anything else. Today, he ignored all this items and started feeling around the top shelf of mom's side of the closet. His hand finally found the item he was looking for, buried way in the back under a stack of blankets and sheets. He pulled the item out carefully, trying not to disturb anything and sat down on his parent's bed to look at the item he had not seen in a very long time.

It took a minute for Sig to get the courage to look at the paddle in his hand. It was made of wood, about a half inch thick, long and rectangular in shape with a carved handle. He noticed that all the edges were smooth and rounded with nothing sharp that would cause bruising. It was pretty old, Sig could tell, but someone long ago had made this thing with care. He always wondered where his sweet mother acquired such an item but he had to guess that it was some kind of family heirloom past down from generation to generation on his mother's side, like many of the family heirlooms in the house. This particular heirloom had only be used one time during the current younger generation's reign. Sig would know, he was the lucky winner. That had been a very long time ago. He was certain neither one of his brothers even knew this item existed.

Sig felt the weight of the paddle in his hand. It felt a lot heavier that it really was, like the weight that was currently sitting on his chest. He started to feel himself waver on this idea for the 100th time when something dropped out of the closet and fell on the floor. He must not have been as careful with the pile on the shelf as he had wanted. Without thinking, he stood up and tucked the paddle into his back pocket, covering the top part under his shirt. He leaned down to pick up whatever had fallen to the floor and noticed it was one of mom's favorite sweaters. He went to fold it when the movement caused the faint scent of her perfume to waft in the air. Sig immediately brought the sweater to his face to get closer to the smell. He closed his eyes for just a minute and then placed the sweater on the bed and said, out loud, "Ok, mom, stop pushing."

He turned and left the room. Second difficult conversation complete, no relief yet, only acceptance, peace and total calm.


	6. Adrift

While Sig was having the first two out of four difficult conversations, Edgar was having a conversation of his own. It was a conversation with God and all of Edgar's own personal demons. He started out this conversation talking to God and all the saints that he could somehow turn back the clock and forget this awful night ever happened. _For that matter, let's turn back the clock to before mom died so that things would be normal again and I can tell her I love her one more time instead of just brushing her off when she tried to hug me and tell me how much she loved me. _

Edgar quickly stopped himself from that line of thinking, not wanting to get upset by thinking about mom. He paced slowly back and forth in his room, wearing out the carpet and trying to keep his mind on other things, any other thing, then what was about to happen.

He heard Norman's truck start up and pull out of the driveway. _Well, there goes my last hope of salvation. Hope you enjoy the ice cream, you lucky bastard_. Edgar knew he was only kidding himself. Norman never enjoyed the ice cream or the movie or the time with mom on their "special treat" trips. Norman was always too anxious to get back home and make sure the brother or brothers that had to stay behind were ok. Norman told Edgar later in life that the anxiety he felt waiting to get home was tripled when both he and Sig got to go on the special trip without Edgar. This was because Sig was usually a nervous wreck, knowing that Edgar was home without one of them around to make sure he was ok. Edgar sent a silent message to his older brother as he heard the truck drive away, _I'll be fine, Norman, please don't worry_.

Edgar felt the knot in his stomach churn slightly and he was reminded of the pain. Having food in his stomach didn't seem to have any effect in making the damn thing stop. Pointlessly, he tried rubbing his stomach to get the knot to go away but that didn't help.

Edgar got tired of pacing and looked around his room. Somehow, he got lucky to have the biggest bedroom out of the three of them. Edgar always wondered if it was because his parents had reserved this particular bedroom for mom's last pregnancy and the long-waited daughter, knowing girls needed more space. Too bad…another boy. Guess they gave up trying and just let Edgar have the big room.

He kept his room pretty neat. Mom did not tolerate messy rooms. His bed was against the wall, headboard against the window. The stuff animals that use to reside on the bed were long gone, replaced with pillows, posters of rock bands and grown-up boy things. His guitar sat on its stand in the corner of his room, although he rarely picked it up anymore.

He always felt safe here. He could shut out the world and listen to music or draw plans for a tree house or other random things he wanted to build someday. What he did not do was read. There was not a book to be found in this room, ever. Norm was the one that loved to hang up in his room and read all day. Edgar could never understand that. Reading was like torture to him. It took him too damn long to make sense of what the hell he was reading and then he'd have to start over. It was just meaningless words on the pages that made little sense. He'd much rather work with his hands and use his mind to plan and fix things.

As he looked around the room, he had to wonder what the hell he was doing here, other than the obvious, which was waiting for his big brother to come in and punish him. This was not the place where punishment was handed out and the change of scenery was bothering him. Edgar liked things to stay the same, stick with tradition and don't deviate from the normal. Nothing felt normal about any of this. He didn't know what to expect or how things were going to work. Was he supposes to sit on his bed and wait? Would he have to bend over the bed or the chair at his desk? Jeans up? Jeans down? _Oh, God, shit, why didn't I think of that sooner. Shit! _Edgar knew his father would not have hesitated for a second to do administer this punishment with that particular article of clothing down and he would have reluctantly admitted the night's actions were worthy of it. But would his brother be comfortable enough to do it that way?

_Fuck, stop thinking about it!_ Edgar had gotten himself pretty worked up by this point and sat down on the floor in the corner of his room. He pulled his knees up in front of him and hugged his arms around his legs. He started furiously rubbing his chin against the rough fabric and he found a little comfort. When Edgar was very anxious, like right now, he had a terrible habit of rubbing at the sides of his face and hair, like he was trying to rub the skin right off. _Geez, what the hell was taking Sig soooo long_. Perhaps his brother was deciding on his method of death and working out the details of how to hide his body. _Stop worrying_, he told himself. _Your brother's not going to kill you… hopefully_. Edgar was caught between wishing Sig would just get there and hoping he never showed up.

_Oh, who am I kidding, I deserve whatever I'm about to get, death or not_. Edgar started thinking about the last few days, the last few months as well. He thought about all the stupid things he had done and wondered, _is there something wrong with me? Why do I do these crazy things? Why do I act like I don't care? Why do I want to hang out with all the bad kids? Maybe __I'm__ a bad kid. Maybe that's why God took our mother away. Maybe that's why dad ignored me lately. Maybe this was the reason Sig and Norm never came home. Maybe…._

Edgar got very lost in his own thoughts and forgot about where he was and what was about to happen. If it wasn't for the knot in his stomach, he would have seriously considered hopping out the window just like last night, and never, ever coming back. _Maybe it __would__ be better for everyone if I just left and….._

By some kind of divine intervention, Edgar's line of self-destructive thinking was put to a grinding halt by a soft knock at his bedroom door.

Side bar conversation with God and the demons interrupted demons in the lead.


	7. Q & A

**READERS: Thank you to everyone for their positive comments and reviews and for taking the time to read this story. I've put a lot of heart and soul into this and your encouragement is very much appreciated! **

**Again, this is just FICTION.**

**The next few chapters were the hardest for me to write. I tried my best not to cry myself when I wrote them. I am a soft heart and it was not easy. I had to break it up into several parts. I wanted to just get it over with but Sig wouldn't let me.**

* * *

Edgar was startled by the soft knock. He took a second to take a deep breath before answering.

"You can come in," he replied without looking up.

Sig opened the door. It took him a minute to scan the room. Finally, he saw his brother, looking totally dejected and lost, sitting in the corner on his bedroom floor. The irony was not lost on Sig that Edgar had unconsciously put himself in the corner. His little brother looked like the loneliest kid in the world.

Sig stood in the doorway of the room and leaned against the doorframe.

This was the start of the third and, by far, most difficult conversation.

"Hi," Sig said softly to gain Edgar's attention.

"Hi," Edgar replied just as soft and without even looking up off the floor.

If anyone else had walked in right then, they would have thought this was just the start of an everyday type of conversation. In reality, it was far from that.

"Do you want me to shut the door or leave it open?" Sig asked, not wanting Edgar to feel like he was trapped.

Edgar figured Norm wouldn't be home for a good, long while and there was no one else in the house. Yet, somehow he felt better with the door closed.

"Shut, I guess," Edgar replied, still studying the floor, but shifting over out of the corner to lean against the wall. He kept his knees bent in front of him, hugging them with both arms.

Sig turned and closed the bedroom door behind. _Now I feel trapped _as he stared at the back of the closed down. Putting those feelings aside, he turned back around and looked at his brother.

He waited a minute for his brother to look at him but Edgar just continued to stare at his shoes.

"Edgar," Sig said softly, "please look at me."

Edgar didn't want to look up but disobeying was one of the many reasons he was in this situation. He lifted his gaze towards his big brother. _When did Sig get so tall_, Edgar wondered.

Sig was so taken aback by the expression of regret and shame on his little brother's face that he thought his heart was going to explode. He wanted nothing more than to grab him, hug him and tell him to forget the whole fucking thing. _Everything would be fine. We'll just keep on going this way and things would work themselves out. God, now I sound like Norman_. Now is not the time to be like their soft-hearted middle brother, it's not what Edgar needed.

Sig gazed at his youngest brother and said with certainty, "When this is over, things will be better, I promise." Sig secretly reinforced to himself his promise to spend more time with his brothers.

Edgar didn't know how anything could ever get better but he liked the idea of this being over.

Sig came into the room and sat down on floor next to Edgar, not on the bed or at the chair of his desk. But right next to him, at his level, their arms almost touching. Sig leaned back against the wall and couldn't help but be reminded of what was sticking out of his back jeans pocket and the reason he was here. He left it tucked away, hidden for now. He didn't want Edgar to get frightened. He'd see it eventually anyway.

Edgar watched his brother walk across the room and sit down next to him, somewhat surprised that Sig wasn't carrying anything in his hand.

They sat quietly next to each other for what seemed like an eternity, neither one knowing how to start. Then Sig took a deep breath and finally spoke, "This is what we are going to do. You get to ask me any questions you want, anything, I don't care what it is and I am going to give you a straight, honest answer, no matter how hard the question. I get to ask you any questions I want but it's your choice to be honest with me or not." _Lead by example, _Sig reminded himself_. Oh, God, Edgar, please just follow my lead._ "We'll go from there. Sound like a plan?"

Edgar didn't even know where to start, he had so many questions. He wasn't thinking of the questions he would be asked in return. He silently promised himself that he would be honest with his brother. He turned slightly and looked at Sig.

"Are we going back downstairs to the kitchen?" Edgar asked.

"No," Sig replied firmly.

Edgar was starting to think this wasn't going to happen. They weren't going back downstairs and his brother didn't bring the strap with him. That prompted the next logical question.

"Aren't you gonna punish me?" Edgar asked thinking _what the hell, I've been up here sweating bullets for nothing. Shut up, idiot, this might be a good thing_.

Sig knew his brother must be totally confused at this point and wanted to explain some things to alleviate that confusion.

He took a big sigh and answered his brother honestly, " It depends."

"On what?" Edgar asked.

"I will tell you how I plan on punishing you and then I need you to decide at the end of our Q & A if you still want me to do it or we ask dad to come home when he calls tomorrow. I think when you came up with this solution, you didn't know what you were agreeing too. I just want you to be sure that you are ok with ME handling this, MY way, and not letting dad take care of it when he gets home," Sig explained, although he already knew the outcome.

Edgar knew in his heart that even if Sig said he was going to cut him up into little pieces with a chainsaw and leave him for dead on the side of the road, he'd rather go that way then have his father come home and have to move the family into the poor house. Regardless, he was dying of curiosity over his big brother's plan. _What was that about a cat?_

Edgar said, looking back down to the floor, "Sig, I trust you with whatever plan you come up with. Do you want me to go get the strap and bring it up here?" Edgar thought maybe mentally it was too hard for Sig to get the darn thing so he volunteered to do it himself.

Sig reached his hand out and lightly touched his little brother's arm. Edgar was a little shocked by the unexpected touch and looked at his brother. "If I'm going to do this, I'm not going to use the strap," Sig said quietly and then added, "I could never use that on you," with meaning.

Edgar was secretly relieved but confused at the same time. He then asked the next logical question, "How do you want to do this then?"

It was a good question that deserved an honest answer. Sig shifted a little nervously and started wringing his hands. He looked away from his brother because he couldn't say it and look at him at the same time. _Once you say it, Sig, you're stuck with it or he will never trust you again, _he reminded himself.

Edgar recognized how nervous his oldest brother was and started to think maybe there are worse things than the strap, like a 2x4 or lead pipe, otherwise why would Sig be so nervous. _Didn't think of that, now did ya, smart ass?_

Sig swallowed hard and said so quickly Edgar almost didn't understand him, almost anyway, "Me sitting on the bed, you over my lap, pants down, I am going to spank you with my hand over your boxers and then I am going to use the paddle." Sig buried his hands in this face, embarrassed to even say it. _Get a hold of yourself, Sigurd, YOU'RE embarrassed, can you imagine how Edgar feels? He's the one that has to actually to go through it. Well, I guess we'll go through it together._

Edgar was immediately suspicious. Big brother was breaking all kinds of traditions long established in this house and there had to be some kind of hidden agenda. Edgar had a feeling it was an agenda that he was not going to like. Still, all things considered, the plan didn't end in his death and he trusted his brother to do whatever he thought was right. Unfortunately, hearing about the plan prompted more questions than it answered. Edgar's first question was the most obvious one.

"We have a paddle in the house?" Edgar asked, wondering why he did not know this before and how his big brother did.

Sig felt this was as good a time as any so he leaned forward and retrieved the item in question from his back pocket, untucking it from underneath his shirt. He brought it out from of him and held it out for his brother to see as proof of its existence. He folded his knees and balanced the paddle onto of them, hoping that his little brother didn't freak out.

Edgar's eyes grew big. "Dad has a paddle. Why didn't he ever use it?"

"It's not dad's" Sig answered flatly.

Edgar didn't quite get it. "Well, whose is it then?"

"Whose do you think?" Sig asked, hoping Edgar would figure it out.

Edgar thought about it for a minute. If it didn't belong to their father, then it must have been….

"Mom?" He asked in a whisper, not even believing what he was saying.

Sig simply nodded.

"Mom had a paddle! Why? She NEVER spanked us, ever," Edgar wondered out loud.

Sig already knew before he walked in the room that he was going to have to share with his brother a deep, dark hurt he had carried around for a long time. _Damn that promise of honesty. _

"Mom never spanked you or Norm..." Sig replied with meaning.

Edgar could read between the lines but he had to ask anyway because he couldn't hardly believe it. "Mom spanked YOU?"

"Yes, once, a long time ago," Sig said, turning several shades of red in the process. "Would you like to hear the story?"

Edgar could see that Sig was embarrassed and he was sorry that his brother was clearly uncomfortable with this sharing this information. Still, he had to know how his gentle mother could ever do such a thing. It was like finding out there was a different side to her that he never knew existed.

"Ah, hell yeah, I want to hear the story," Edgar answered, not able to keep his curiosity hidden.

Sig nudged his brother playfully with his shoulder for being rude. The obvious curiosity in his voice was not well hidden.

Then Sig started to tell the story.

"I was 4 years old, too young to go to school. Dad was away fishing. Norm was about 3 years old I guess but he wasn't home. I don't remember where he was, grandmom's maybe. You weren't around yet."

Sig stopped and added, "Those were good days," he gently teased his youngest brother. Edgar smiled at the teasing. Sig thought it was good to see him smile.

"Anyway, I was bored without Norm and getting into trouble all over the place. Mom was trying to make dinner and I was really pestering her. I was getting into things, spilling things over, making more of a mess for her to clean up. She must have warned me about 10 times that if I didn't settle down she was going to put me in the corner but I still didn't listen. Finally, she had had enough. She picked me up and took me over to the corner. She turned me around and told me to stand there until I was ready to listen to her."

Edgar had clocked enough time in the corner himself over the years to know that this was a very believable story. _Where had it all gone wrong_?

Sig took a deep breath, _this was the hard part_, he knew but continued, "God help me, Edgar, but for the life of me, I don't know why but…I called her a bitch."

_That would be about where it went wrong_, Edgar had no doubt.

"I don't even know where I heard the word," Sig added quickly, sounding ashamed.

"Dad," Edgar answered without blinking an eye.

Sig laughed a little. "Yea, I guess I heard dad using it when he talked about the boat or the guy at the bank or something like that. But he never used it about or towards mom. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew it was a bad word and I knew I would hurt her if I said it."

Sig came back to the present for a minute and his eyes got a little watery. "I'd give anything in the world to be able to take it back," he said, looking towards his brother with tears in his eyes. He wanted to somehow let Edgar know how sorry he was for hurting their mother. Maybe he still needed some kind of forgiveness.

Edgar immediately regretted being so anxious for Sig to share this story. It was clearly a very painful memory for him to share and he felt bad that his oldest brother was still carrying around the pain of it. Edgar nudged his brother's foot with his own. "It was a long time ago, Sig," he gently reminded him, trying to easy some of the pain.

"Still hurts all the same," Sig said softly. He got quiet for a minute and collected himself. _Can't break down now._

"Anyway," he continued, sucking the tears back down and shaking off the memory, "I could tell by the look on her face I had just crossed over to the "Big Trouble" list of offenses and I got scared. Mom didn't say anything. She just left the kitchen, me still in the corner. She came back a few minutes later with this." Sig pointed to the paddle. "She took me out of the corner and sat me down with her on her lap. She told me that I had hurt her very much and that she was going to punish me for saying such a bad word to her. She put me back in the corner, bent me over her arm and gave me four hard licks with the paddle. I, of course, was crying after only the first lick."

"It hurts pretty bad, then?" Edgar interjected. He figured if something like that could make his big, tough oldest brother cry after only one lick, it had to be bad. He wondered if Sig was telling him this story for a reason, like maybe he wanted Edgar to know exactly what he was in for so he could make an informed decision.

Sig looked towards his little brother with sympathy. "I won't lie to you. It stings enough that I remember it 14 years later. _Not as bad as the strap though, little brother. Guess you'll find that out on your own._ But I really didn't cry because of the pain. I cried because I knew I must have really hurt mom to make her do something like that. I felt horrible. I cried for so long and so hard after she spanked me that I must have scared her something awful. I remember she picked me up and took me to my room and stayed with me till I could calm down. I must have fallen asleep in her arms because she woke me up for dinner a little while later. She came and sat down on my bed. I could tell she had been crying. She told me she was sorry she punished me like that. She said she would never do that again, she just couldn't, and that she put the paddle up on her shelf in her bedroom closet."

Sig thought about this, "I don't know why she told me where she put, though. I didn't care where it was. As long as I never had to look at it again was good enough for me. Then she told me that it didn't mean we were going to get away with things, which you and I both know we did, A LOT, but that dad was going to be handling the "big" stuff from now on." This would be the day that the "List" was born. Sig finished his story, "And, as you know, dad has ever since."

"Up until today," Edgar added.

Sig was slammed back into the present with the force of a freight train.

Edgar looked at the paddle resting on his brother's knees. He didn't know if he had permission to touch it so he reached his hand out in front of it and stopped, waiting for Sig to give the ok.

Sig saw that Edgar was curious about it. He tipped his knees towards Edgar, making the paddle slip right into his brother's hand.

Edgar held it with reverence. Despite its intended purpose and design, this was something that belong to his mother. Therefore it automatically had value and special meaning. He understood with total clarity why his oldest brother selected this type of spanking, even though it brought back very painful memories for him. Edgar had to be honest with himself. It looked like it would sting. Would it be worse than the strap? He doubted it, but it would bring its own kind of hurt.

Edgar held it and asked his brother the next question, a difficult one, in a quiet voice. "How many…licks?" he swallowed hard and looked at his feet again when he asked.

Sig knew exactly what Edgar was asking but he wasn't ready for that question yet. He already had the number in his head but he wasn't ready to share it at this moment. "I'll tell you when we get there, kid, ok? Promise. I promise I'll tell you everything that's gonna happen before it happens, IF (Sig knew by this point there weren't anymore ifs, but he said it anyway) it happens" Sig added, not sure that his brother was going to go through with this now that he knew how it was going to be done.

For Edgar, there were no IFs anymore either but he agreed to formally make his decision at the end of the Q&A with his brother so he let go for now. Edgar was concerned about several things at this point. One of which was why his brother wouldn't commit to the number of licks just yet. Maybe his brother hadn't decided because he was still angry. _Oh, God, Sig, please don't do this angry_.

Edgar asked, "You still mad?"

Sig read the meaning of this question easily. His brother was asking him if Sig was going to decide the amount of licks out of anger and not set a limit. This must have been a very frightening thought so Sig reassured his brother quickly, "No, I am not the least bit angry or mad anymore, ok? Just…disappointed, I guess."

_Ok, lets go back to angry, that may not be such a bad thing after all_, Edgar thought, _because disappointed I can't take_. The knot in his stomach grew ever tighter.

Sig knew from personal experience how much it must have hurt to hear but he was going to be honest with his brother and disappointed was exactly how he felt. Not just disappointed in Edgar but also disappointed in himself for letting his brother down when he needed him the most. Sig quickly referred himself back to PROMISE #1.

Sig didn't want Edgar to be focusing on the number of licks he was going to get but he needed to let the kid know there was a limit, an end in sight, so to speak. "Ok, my turn for a few questions" Sig knew some of the answers to these questions already but he wanted to get the conversation started again.

Edgar re-shifted his focus on his brother. What kind of questions would Sig ask? Some of the more obvious ones Edgar anticipated were, _why are you such a screw-up and how could you be so dumb?_ He wasn't expecting the first question to be what it was.

"If memory serves me right, you, little brother, were the last person in the house to take a lickin' from dad. Do you remember?" Sig asked with purpose.

Edgar remembered very well. It was one of those rare times that one of them got in a lot of trouble while dad was home. "Oh, yeah, that was definitely me. That was the end of last summer when I set the shed on fire by accident because I was playing with dad's blow torch. He was beyond livid."

Sig remember this all too well himself. Sig also secretly worried about his little brother's obsession with fire and prayed he would grow out of it sooner rather than later.

Edgar went on with the memory. "After we put the fire out, which thankfully no one was hurt, dad gave me a look I will never forget. He didn't even need to say anything. I think it was the only time I was waiting for him to come to the kitchen instead of him waiting for me to get there. Mom took off, like usually. Norm was at work. I don't remember where you were."

Sig answered that question in his own mind, not wanting Edgar to ever know he was at home when this happened. _I do, I was in the basement working on something when I heard you coming into the kitchen. I heard dad come in next and I heard the door of the pantry open and shut. I sat on the basement steps because it was too late for me to get away. I was trapped down there. I heard dad say a number I never thought I'd hear him say and I started to shake. _

Edgar went on, "I don't even think he had to tell me to drop my pants, I think I just knew. I bent over the table and dad gave me 20 of the hardest licks I ever took."

_I know_, Sig said to himself, _I sat on the basement steps crying and counted each one, wincing from just the sound_. Sig knew this was the most any of them had ever received and it broke his heart that it was the baby of the family who received them.

Edgar, on the other hand, seemed strangely proud of this fact, like it was some kind of badge of honor. "He really let me have it. He was pissed, too, I could tell. Don't blame him though, he told me never to play with his blow torch I don't know how many times. We were lucky the roof of the house didn't catch on fire. Afterwards, I went to my room and hung out for the rest of the day," he finished with a shrug.

Sig continued asking questions he already knew the answers to. "Edgar, did dad come and talk to you about it afterwards?"

Edgar gave Sig to biggest "Are you kidding me" expression and then thought about it for a minute. "You know, come to think of it, a little while later, I heard footsteps come up to the door of my bedroom and stop, like someone was out there. Then, after a minute, I heard them walk away." Edgar got a little quiet and added, "I kinda thought maybe dad…wanted to come in but…changed his mind." Edgar looked at Sig out of the corner of his eye, wondering if his brother thought he was stupid to even think that.

_Let the kid just think those were dad's footsteps_, Sig said to himself. _I'd be happy knowing he assumed it was dad outside his door for the remainder of his life._

Sig asked his next question, again one he already knew the answer too.

"Edgar, if dad had come in your room then, what were you hoping he would say?" Sig asked quietly.

Sig could immediately see he hit a nerve because he saw Edgar shut down right in front of him. _So much for the total honesty on Edgar's part_.

Edgar heard the question and wanted to answer it. Yet, it hit too close to home for him so he put up a wall and gave the ole' standby of "I dunno know." He followed it up with the traditional teenage shrug of the shoulders.

_Yes, you do kid, but that's ok. I won't make you say it. I already know_ Sig said to himself.

Sig asked his next question, the first one he did NOT know the answer too. "Did you think 20 licks was a fair number?"

Edgar couldn't help but think this was a trick question but he just dodged the last one so he answered it honestly, "I guess, it was a pretty stupid thing to do." _Like all the stupid things I just did in the last twenty four hours. Way to go, just shot myself in the foot. _

Sig could see Edgar's line of thinking so he added quickly, "You asked me how many licks," Sig gestured to the paddle that Edgar was still holding. "I didn't give you a straight answer before, but I will soon. I just want you to know that it won't be more than the last time."

This answer did bring some kind of relief to Edgar. Knowing there was a maximum limit ease his mind a bit.

Edgar didn't want to hold the paddle anymore. He didn't want to think about. He also wasn't sure what to do with it sitting there in his hands. So he moved away from his brother slightly and put the paddle on the floor in between them. His brother would be free to pick it up at any time.

_I'm not going to read into this_, Sig thought. _My brother just moved away from me and left the paddle lying on the floor between us. What the hell does that say? Don't think about. Just forget its there for awhile. _

Sig wanted to move on. "You're up" meaning it was now Edgar's turn to ask questions.

Edgar had one. It was about what was bothering him the most regarding Sig's plan.

"Sig, is there ANY other way we can do this without me over your lap?" Edgar asked with a little desperation in his voice. He was sure Sig had his reasons but he didn't understand what they could be.

Sig gave a flat reply. "No." He offered no explanations.

Edgar's mind raced through old movies and TV shows where he'd seen kids were spanked over the parents' knee. The parent was always holding the kid down, arm around their waist. Maybe his brother thought he would have to restrain him to do this or something like that.

"Sig," Edgar tried to explain, "I never resisted when dad strapped me. I always knew I was getting what I deserved. You don't have to hold me down. I can take it like a man."

"Maybe that's the problem," Sig muttered to himself.

When Edgar gave him a puzzled look, Sig sighed and said, "It's how I am going to do it, that's it."

Edgar could tell from the tone of Sig's voice that no other suggestions would be taken under advisement. Edgar's shoulders slumped slightly with resignation. His big brother would always see him as a little kid for the rest of his life.

Sig watched Edgar struggle over this part of the plan but refused to change his mind. He was confident he knew what he was doing. _I do know what I am doing, right?_ Sig tried to alleviate some of the tension. "But I promise I won't hold you down, unless I have too," he said jokingly.

Edgar gave him a half-hearted smile. He remembered that he agreed to trust his brother to do this and if this was the way he wanted too, then Edgar had to respect that. _If he wants to treat me like a kid, I'll just have to show him that I'm not._

"Ok, next question. Why did you call me 'sir' in the kitchen a little while ago?" Sig really wanted to know the answer to this one.

Edgar looked over at his brother. It was an easy answer. "It was a sign of respect...It wasn't sarcastic, if that's what you think." Edgar thought about it for a moment and asked, "Was that wrong? Did you not want me too?"

"Shit, Edgar, I don't know what I want. I do know that I just want to be your brother. I'm not dad. It felt weird when you said it. Little brothers don't say that to their older brothers, it's just weird." _This entire situation is weird but it's what we are left with, _Sig thought to himself. "But I do want you to respect me. Actually, I need you to respect me, at least a little. I don't know how I feel about it but I guess if you want to say it, don't say it that much, ok. What I can tell you is I liked it a hell of lot better than 'Fuck You,' I know that," Sig said with conviction.

Edgar hung his head in shame with the reminder. _Oh, that damn knot just won't go away_. Edgar wanted to forget about it. "Next question, will you ever trust me again?" Edgar wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer but he asked the question anyway.

Sig answered honestly, "I hope so but this conversation is a very good start. My turn now."

Sig hesitated and he felt his hands start to shake. "Edgar, do you have any idea how hard it's gonna be for me to do this?" Sig turned pleading eyes to his brother, hoping that he would not see Sig as some kind of monster for the rest of his life.

Edgar understood that this was going to be as hard on his brother as it would be on him. Well, almost, anyway. Edgar was certain it would be harder on himself.

Still, he felt bad for his brother. His oldest brother was stuck being the one in charge when he should have been enjoying the last summer of his school years. Yet, Edgar was going about making life miserable for everybody. That didn't help the knot any either.

Edgar tried to make his brother smile, like Norm always did to him, "Oh, come on, Sig. Just think of all the times I broke your stuff or bugged the shit out of you or messed up your room and the million other "little brother" stunts I've pulled over the years. Now's your chance for revenge."

Sig did smile and laughed a little, "Oh, I got my revenge plenty."

Edgar smiled too, "You don't have to tell me" added with an eye roll.

Sig suddenly got serious. "Edgar, you do understand this is different? This isn't about revenge or normal stuff between brothers. I just can't let up when…" Sig couldn't even finish the thought out loud but did in his head. ..._I want too or when you cry, like I always did when we played rough_.

Edgar got serious too. "I know…"

"Any other questions?" Sig knew he was stalling now because his heart was starting to beat nervously. _Oh God, I don't want to do this_.

Edgar thought about it for a minute. He didn't want to stall but he did have one last question. "Yeah, why my room? I mean, we could have done this your way anywhere in the house. Why here?"

_Thank you_, Sig thought to himself, _that was the question I was hoping for_. He really wanted to say this because he needed Edgar to understand his motives and not think his big brother had gone completely crazy.

"Because this is where you come when you want to feel safe. Just listen, Edgar and please understand me. I respect our father very much, more so at this moment than ever. I don't want you to ever think that I don't." Sig made sure he had his little brother's full attention before continuing. "But I don't think he ever did this right. This shouldn't be done like it's a job or chore, done well but without any heart put in it. This should be done with explanations and understandings. In a safe place. It should be done with patience and comfort, somehow anyway. It should be done with love and afterwards, forgiveness, total and complete forgiveness," Sig felt a little silly saying all these mushy things to his youngest brother but they were true, it was how he felt and he promised to be honest from start to finish. He could only hope now Edgar understood.

Edgar listened intently to his brother's little speech. He had never heard his big brother talk about stuff like that before, stuff that came from his heart. And Edgar heard the magic word at the end of the speech and knew that he had heard enough. He didn't even need to give his official decision at the end about who was going to do this.

Edgar took a deep breath and picked up the paddle off the floor. He handed it to his brother, handle side to him.

To this day, Sig considered that gesture the most respectful thing he ever experienced. It also was a sign of complete and total trust. He took the offered paddle but grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him closer so that Edgar's ear was right next to Sig's face.

Sig whispered softly, his voice almost breaking, "I'll be careful, Edgar. I swear to God. I would NEVER leave...welts...or bruises...on you."

Edgar was a little overwhelmed by the emotion in Sig's voice and he pulled away slightly, taking his hand back. He looked into his big brother's blue eyes and said softly, "I know."

Edgar gave his brother one last look with very sad and sorry dark green eyes. Then he stood up, a little stiff from sitting on the floor for so long. He walked over to the chair at his desk and, with his back to his brother, took off his shoes. He started fumbling with the button on his jeans. It was difficult to get the button undone because his hands were a little shaky but he managed. He was very grateful that Sig didn't ask him about the actions and decisions he made in the last few days to earn this spanking. Edgar didn't really want to think about that stuff anyway.

Sig got up off the floor and slipped the paddle under the folded blanket at the end of the bed. No one in this room needed to see it right now anyway. He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned his back to his brother to give him as much privacy as possible. Growing up in a house together, of course they saw each other in various states of undress, but Sig wanted to give the kid as much respect and privacy as he could.

As he sat patiently, he looked down and noticed that his hands were trembling. He started wringing his hands in front of him when he noticed that he was still wearing his high school class ring on the ring finger of his right hand. _Fucking idiot, didn't think of that, did ya?_ As quickly as he could, he slipped the ring off, leaned over and placed it on the nightstand by Edgar's bed. As he took it off, he felt like he was about to get into a fight. He was like one of those guys in the old movies that would take off their jewelry and hand it to a friend before a fistfight. The intent was so that nothing would get broken and they wouldn't do more damage than they wanted. _Maybe I am getting into a fight, not a fistfight, but some kind of struggle_. Sig sat back down and waited, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

After taking off his jeans and folding them over the chair, Edgar found some kind of courage somewhere deep down and walked over to where his brother was sitting. Sig saw the feet appear on the floor at the right side of his knee. Sig twisted a little so that when Edgar laid down, he could rest his chest, head and arms on the bed. Sig waited, unable to look up at his brother's face for fear that his heart would disinegrate.

Edgar stood there in his boxers, not really sure what to do, feeling kind of stupid. _Even little kids know how to do this. _

Sig finally looked up at him but continued to wait. _Maybe Edgar is waiting for some kind of signal from me_.

"You want me to talk you through this?" Sig ask him gently.

Edgar nodded up and down gratefully.

Sig thought of the best analogy he could come up for this. "Ok," he said, "it's just like sliding into second base, except the landing is much softer and a lot less dirty."

Edgar looked up at the ceiling and let out a huge laugh. "Shit, Sig" he said, "you make it sound so easy."

Sig smiled but sympathized with him, "I know its not."

Edgar stood there for another minute or so, struggling with this part of the punishment. For whatever reason, this was pretty hard to do. There was something about the close physical contact during a time like this that made him feel like mush inside and he didn't want to appear weak in front of his brother. He also knew that he would have to completely trust his brother from this point forward because, if Sig wanted, he could totally let him fall. Edgar quietly told his oldest brother, "I'm not trying to be defiant," not wanting Sig to think he was stalling on purpose.

"I know, kid, just take your time. I'm sticking with you the whole way" Sig said softly.

Edgar looked straight into his brother's blue eyes and knew he meant what he said. For the first time in a long, long time, Edgar didn't feel alone.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but Edgar closed his eyes and bent over his brother's lap and laid down. He rested his head on the comforter of his bed, both arms at either side of his head, elbows bent and he buried his turned face into the nook created by this right arm. He braced himself and waited.

Sig wanted to die. He felt his brother tense up, anticipating the punishment to start and his heart already started to break. _It couldn't start like this_, he knew it. _Just couldn't_.

Edgar was waiting for his punishment to begin so he was shocked when Sig asked in a calm voice, "Do you remember that game mom use to play with us when we had to wait around in line at the grocery store? You know the one where she would write words on our backs with her finger and then we would do the same to next one of us in the line. Whichever one of us was in the front had to relay the message back to mom, sort of like 'whisper down the lane' but without talking to each other. You remember what I'm talking about?"

Edgar lifted his head up and rested his chin on top of his forearm. "Yeah, I remember. I was always after Norm and it was so freaking hard because his handwriting sucks. It use to take him like three tries to get the message out. She use to come up with some creative ways to keep us from killing each other out of boredom."

Sig paused for a minute and then put the flat of his palm on Edgar's back. The gentle touch was not the first thing Edgar expected and he closed his eyes. Looking back now, Edgar remembered that was the first touch that almost broke him. Sig used his finger and drew a big** R** on Edgar's back. He waited. Edgar got the hint. "R" he said suspiciously. Sig then drew a big "**U**" on his back. "U" Edgar said back. Sig drew the "**O**" and "**K**" quickly followed by a question mark (mom always made them punctuate their messages properly). Edgar replied "OK?" He assumed Sig was asking him if he was comfortable. He guess he was, it wasn't totally a bad position, if it wasn't for what was coming.

"Yes, I'm ok" Edgar responded to the written question.

Sig made a motion on his back like he was erasing a chalkboard. This meant a new message was coming. Sig started writing each word out slowly, one at a time. Edgar repeated the words out loud so Sig knew he got the right word. The message wasn't done until there was a punctuation mark at the end.

"**Norm's**-luck?" Edgar tried to get the second word. _No, wrong word_, Sig traced a big X on Edgar's back and wrote again. "Truck, Oh, ok, **Norm's-truck-is-a-piece-of -shit.**" Edgar repeated and started laughing, "Sig, don't tell him that, you'll hurt his feelings. He loves that truck"

Sig laughed too, Edgar could feel his belly moving next to the side of his ribs. Sig made the erasing motion again and started over. Edgar repeated the words that were traced on his back out loud, "**Do-you-want-to-be-a-captain-someday-like-dad**?" _Good question_, Edgar thought and then replied, "I don't know, I don't think so."

New message. "**Are-you-afraid**?"

Edgar didn't understand that one. "Of being captain, you mean?"

Sig wrote the word "**No**" on Edgar's back. He added to his written message. "**Of-this**?"

Edgar wanted to follow his big brother's lead about being honest so he replied honestly, "A little...yes."

Sig wrote the next two words "**Of-me**?"

Edgar replied simply, "No...never."

Erased and new message. "**I-am-afraid**."

Edgar asked, "Of what?"

New message. "**You-will-hate-me**."

Edgar replied quietly, "Sig, I could never, ever hate you."

Erased back. A long wait for the next message.

Finally, "**I-** (Sig spelled the next word out very slowly) **L…O…V…E** and then added the **U** at the end. He punctuated the message by placing his left hand on the small of Edgar's back gently and cinching his t-shirt between his fingers, letting him know how much he meant it.

Edgar stopped repeating the words after "I."

That would have been the second touch that almost broke him because he started to feel the tears forming in his eyes. _Don't you fucking do that to me, Sig, do not fucking make me do that, not now when I need to be so strong_.

Edgar swallowed the tears and put up such a wall around himself that Sig actually felt it go up. _Damn it, kid, why are you going to make this harder than it has to be? Doesn't matter, go ahead kid, put up the good fight like the stubborn Norwegian that you are. Best of luck to you. You forget that I can be just as stubborn as you. Love to let you win but this is a fight I cannot lose. Keep telling yourself that your family doesn't love you, let's see how long it takes for you to figure it out how wrong you are. ._

Sig closed his eyes and lifted his right hand slightly for the first swat.

Third conversation only half-over. Battle begun.


	8. The Ring

**READERS: I tried to just get this over with, but this time, it was Edgar that wouldn't let me.**

* * *

Edgar felt the first swat to his backside and he couldn't help but gasp softly. It wasn't that hard at all but he hadn't been ready for it considering his big brother just told him, in his own way, that he loved him. Sig never said stuff like that. It was surprising and made him feel mushy inside and he didn't want to feel all mushy right now because he just wanted to take this punishment from his brother the best that he could. He buried his face into the nook of his elbow and was ready for the second and following swats. He took them quietly and respectfully, affording his brother the same respect he had always given their father. Honestly, he was relieved that all this had started so that they could stop talking about all this mushy stuff and he could take his punishment, getting it over with as quickly as possible.

Sig watched carefully what he was doing as well as keeping an eye on his brother's emotional and physical reactions. Edgar was completely still and stoic, taking each swat his brother delivered. _This is going to take awhile_, Sig sighed to himself. For a time, he focused on the manner and location of each swat. They weren't that hard and Sig tried not to swat the same spot twice in a row, just covering all areas with general mild discomfort.

The light swats gave Edgar time to notice that his brother had kept his left hand on the small of his back since he told him he loved him. It was like a constant reminder and for some reason it was bothering Edgar. It felt comforting knowing that Sig was there and trying to make him feel secure but it also was distracting because he didn't want to think about his brother being nice to him right now. He just wanted to focus on maintaining control of himself and showing his big brother that he could take this. He wanted Sig to know that he was tough and could somehow mentally muscle his way right through this.

In order to forget about the warm hand touching his back, both of Sig's hands for that matter, Edgar tried to find something else to concentrate on. He lifted his head and rested his cheek on his forearm and ended up staring over at his nightstand. He immediately noticed his big brother's class right sitting next to his alarm clock. _What the hell is that doing there, that doesn't belong there. Sig must have taken it off at some point_. Like any little brother would, Edgar secretly coveted his oldest brother's treasured item. It represented that Sig was no longer a kid and that he had accomplished something to be admired. It was a symbol of pride. Edgar often caught himself glancing at that ring when he thought Sig wasn't looking, like when Sig was driving and had his right hand on the steering wheel. For Edgar, getting his own someday was something of a goal for him, so that he could wear it proudly and be just like his big brother.

Edgar stared at the ring intently, studying the large blue stone in the center, cut with many facets. His focused his thoughts on the detailed engraving on the side that displayed their local high school coat of arms and the year of graduation. He watched the gold metal glimmer under the light of the lamp. He studied everything about the ring and tried to forget about what was happening.

Sig was very clever in selecting his position of choice for administering this punishment. It wasn't a random thought to put his brother over his knee for this spanking. In his current position, Sig was very in tune with his brother's emotional state and could almost tell the exact moment when he mentally checked out on him. Sig knew all about mentally checking out during a spanking. He himself was quite good at it, having had a lot of time to practice over the years. He spent many a strapping bent over the kitchen table studying the crazy designs engrained in the wood or counting the groves that ran along the edge of the table while he grasped it for dear life, just holding on and praying it would come to an end. Unfortunately, he could not let his brother mentally check out on him now or, maybe, ever again.

Sig steeled his heart for the first of many times to come and started increasing the force behind each swat. He swatted the same spots twice on a row, closing his heart off the tiny flinches his brother didn't even know he was making.

Edgar felt and sensed it immediately but tried to keep focused on the ring. It wasn't just engraved on the outside but on the smooth inside as well. There was a hidden message on the inside of the ring, which Edgar had committed to memory the first time Sig had let him see it. It read, "_We couldn't be more proud, All Our Love, Mom and Dad_." Sig loved that ring, it meant the world to him. He never took it off, not to shower or when he went to bed, never.

The swats were getting harder now and Edgar was starting to lose his focus. Why did his brother take the ring off now. Edgar couldn't lie to himself about it like he wanted too. He wanted to tell himself Sig just took it off because it was too tight or the room was too hot. Finally, to distracted from the burn that was increasing on his butt, Edgar had to admit to himself that _Sig took that damn ring off because he took the time to think about me and wanted to save me as much pain and hurt as possible, even though I was awful to him...No, I'm not thinking about it. I am not thinking about how my brother cares about me. Stop thinking about it! _

Edgar lowered his head to rest his cheek on the comforter. Not realizing it, he moved his hand up to his exposed face and started rubbing at it.

Sig picked up on Edgar's telltale sign of nervousness in a heartbeat. _My brother will never make it as a professional poker player so I hope he finds another line of work_, Sig had to laugh a little at his own thoughts. _I'm sorry, buddy, but I'm going to have to make you a lot more uncomfortable than that but you gotta mentally stay with me, no matter how hard it's going to be_. He also noticed that his brother's other hand, the one above his head, was starting to close tightly into a fist.

Being a kid that only ever got the strap, Edgar had not realized up until that moment how much a hand spanking could really sting. The sting was incredible and he screwed his eyes shut, trying not to focus on the pain. Edgar moved his right hand from his face and grabbed onto the edge of the bed, steadying himself. He had to concentrate on keeping himself in place. He desperately wanted to take this punishment well and show his brother that he was tough enough to accept the consequences he was being given.

From his left hand, Sig could feel Edgar flinched slightly from each swat and he tried to ignore it. He focused on swatting areas that were the least worked over at this point but he was running out of spaces. He then moved his attention to the soft under curve of his brother's bottom and upper thights. Sig knew from personal experience that these were the most sensitive areas and therefore, the hardest to take. He tried to go easy on these spots for as long as he could.

Edgar felt the tears starting to form in his eyes, even with them shut. He swallowed the tears down as best as could but started to shake from holding them back. He moved his right hand in front of his face and started biting down on the bent knuckle of his index finger in order to keep himself from making any noise.

A few seconds later, Sig noticed the knuckle in Edgar's mouth. Sig stopped the swats and, with his left hand, moved it to Edgar's mouth and dislodged the knuckle himself. Edgar said nothing. His knuckle had deep bite impressions left in it. Sig squinted his eyes at the self-inflicted wound. _You're not hurting yourself anymore, kid_. He resumed spanking.

Another few seconds of hard spankings and Sig looked down to find Egdar again biting down on his knuckle. Sig stopped again, moved the knuckle out of Edgar's mouth, this time adding "No" firmly when he did it. He resumed the punishment.

Another second or two later, for a third time, Sig noticed Edgar was biting hard on his knuckle. He stopped the punishment immediately.

"Edgar, if you don't get that knuckle out of your mouth and keep it out, so help me…" Sig said with authority.

Edgar obeyed but couldn't help himself, he whined a little, "Please" was all he said.

"Please, what? Let you hurt yourself, No way" Sig said with patience, lowering his left hand to rub at the painful bite marks his brother was leaving on his knuckle and then replaced his left hand on Edgar's back.

Edgar was embarrassed to say it but he needed Sig to understand why he was doing what he was doing. "It keeps me from crying" he said desperately.

"So, cry if you want" Sig replied with a very "matter of fact tone" and gave a few hard swats.

Edgar yelped and automatically moved the knuckle back to his mouth, biting hard.

Sig was losing his patience but reminded himself of all his promises. He stopped the swats again and gave his brother his last warning. "Edgar, if you keep biting your knuckle, I am going to take your hands and pin them behind your back" Sig warned softly. They both knew he was strong enough to do it, too.

"No, no, please, please don't" Edgar begged, panicking, quickly removing the abused knuckle and feeling like his brother was thinking he was the biggest baby in the world. "You don't have to hold me down, please, I can take it."

"You can take it without hurting yourself!" Sig said, returning his left hand to Edgar's back and rubbing small circles for a second or two. "I can't watch you hurt yourself anymore" Sig said like he was saying it to himself. He then gave his brother several hard swats.

Edgar almost put the knuckle right back in his mouth but stopped himself. He buried his face deep into the bedding and held his breath.

"Edgar, you don't have to hide it. It's ok if you cry," Sig said gently but not letting up on the swats.

"I can't!" was the desperate response.

"Why not?" Sig asked, continuing on with swatting an already tender backside.

"Because you'll think I am weak," Edgar's voice was breaking.

"Never!" a swat with a little extra force to punctuate his meaning.

"Ouch….You'll tease me!" Edgar was feeling like he was starting to lose this battle. Sig was like a man on a mission right now and nothing was going to stop him.

Sig thought this was something only a little brother would worry about in a time like this and he smiled and shook his head. He stopped the spanking and reassured his brother gently, "Edgar, I may tease you about a lot of things in this lifetime, but I can promise you with absolute certainty, I will NEVER tease you if you cry right now. It hurts, I know. I can feel how much it hurts. Its ok, kid," Sig gave him a second and started spanking with new intensity.

_Kid, he always calls me kid. Norm does, too. They both think I am a baby and I'm not. _"Sig, I'm not a fucking baby!" Edgar almost yelled it, partly out of frustration and partly from the painful stings landing on his backside.

Sig didn't even hesitate for a second to think about what he said next. It was like someone had put the words in his mouth and pushed them out. He stopped spanking and said "Edgar, you will ALWAYS be HER baby" with such meaning it almost crushed him to say it.

Edgar got very quiet and lay perfectly still. Sig thought_, Shit, I shouldn't have said that. Did I just cross a line? Too late now_. Sig resumed spanking and only gave Edgar one hard swat before he heard it. It was the softest of sobs but it had to be one of the most painful things he'd ever heard. He stopped and gave another hard swat. He heard another soft sob, louder this time, followed by several more.

Sig couldn't help himself. He looked down at his little brother and saw the tears running down his face. Edgar was laying there, face turned towards the nightstand and he had his forearm covering his eyes. His other hand was gripping the edge of the bed. Without thinking, Sig used his left hand and brushed away the arm covering Edgar's eyes. Then, he grabbed Edgar's hand, opened up his palm and held it in his own. Edgar wrapped his fingers between his brother's fingers and Sig closed his hand around them. Neither one of them said anything. It was a silent message. _I'm staying with you the __whole__ way_.

Sig took a breath, knowing this would be extremely difficult for both of them, for Edgar to take and for Sig to hear. _I'm sorry, so sorry. _He wanted to encourage his brother to just let it out and also to let him know that this part was almost over. Sig leaned down and whispered in the back of Edgar's hair, "I'm sorry about what I said, about being HER baby but its true. That doesn't mean I think you are a baby. Edgar, we are almost done with this but I'm gonna spank you really hard first, no breaks, and we are going to finish this. It's going to sting and it's ok with me if you cry through the whole damn thing."

Edgar was already crying and wanted to get this over with so he just nodded his head. Sig steeled his heart again and then spanked his brother pretty hard, swatting many of the same spots multiple times in a row. He worked the sits spots and tops of his thighs over with particular attention. Sig swatted as quickly as he could, just wanting to get this over with.

And Edgar cried, sobbed loudly and freely, and let tears flow down his face without brushing them off. He didn't care who heard him or how it sounded. He held onto his big brother's left hand and squeezed it as hard as he could, taking each swat as it came. He leaned hard against his brother's thigh, knowing Sig wouldn't let him fall and braced himself for each one. His left hand was grabbing the corner of the bed so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He managed to stay in position from shear determination and respect because nothing was stopping him from moving. It seemed like it went on forever but he took each and every swat and held his brother's hand through them all.

Suddenly and without warning, his brother stopped the spanking and Edgar breathing was coming back to normal in between hard sobs. He didn't know the reason Sig stopped but he was grateful for whatever it was. His backside was on fire and stung like crazy. He honestly didn't think he could take much more at this point and was close to asking Sig to stop, which he absolutely would have been humilated to do. He never begged his father to stop and he would have considered it completely disrespectful to ask his brother.

Sig then said, "I have one more question."

Edgar couldn't help but think _now, you want to ask me something now. Didn't we get all of these questions out of the way already. I don't think I can talk right now Sig, how the hell am I going to answer anything._

Sig waited until he was sure he had Edgar's attention. Then he asked the question that he knew had to be asked because neither he nor his brother were going to walk out of that room without discussing it.

"Edgar, why am I punishing you?" Sig asked quietly.

Edgar went immediately on the defensive. _Shit, we're gonna go over my list of offenses NOW, couldn't we have done that before or maybe NEVER_. _I don't want to talk about it!_ Edgar went back to burying his face in the comforter of his bed.

"Did you hear me? Sig asked softly.

"Yes, sir" Edgar said respectfully _but I don't want to answer it_.

"Then answer the question." Sig pushed.

Silence

"Edgar, please answer the question," Sig pushed again.

Still silence

Sig didn't want too, he just wanted to be done with this part, but he gave his brother a few swats, not hard but they had to hurt on an already sore bottom. Edgar yelped and flinched but still remained silent. Sig winced at the yelp and waited a few seconds. He then swatted him again several times more times. Nothing. Sig went to raise his hand again and Edgar immediately sensed it. Edgar tensed up and Sig stopped himself. He didn't want it to be like this. He begged his brother, "Please, Edgar, just say it, please, just let's be done with this. If you don't answer me now, I'll have to bare your bottom, please don't make me do that" Sig was now getting close to crying at this point because he knew he was going to have to win this fight and his brother had decided that now he was going to be stubborn. _Couldn't you have picked a better time than this?_

Edgar knew he was being defiant at the worse possible time and he deserved a bare bottom spanking just for that alone. Still, he sobbed softly, "Please don't. Its...humiliating." _But I'd rather take that then think about what I have done to my family._

Sig's heart was starting to break because the last thing he wanted to do was cause his brother further hurt or humilation. But he wasn't going to let Edgar just forget about all the wrong things he had done. _You can't pretent this stuff didn't happen_. "I would never try to humilate you. I don't want too spank you bare, believe me I don't, but if we keep going on like this, I need to see what I am doing so I know if I am accidentially bruising you. I don't know how much more of this you can take. I don't know how much more of this I can take. So please, please just answer the question."

Now Edgar's heart was breaking, listening to his big brother beg. _Why can't I just answer the question?_ Edgar whimpered, trying to explain the best he could, "I don't….want…to think…about what i did. It…hurts so much…to think about it." He squeezed Sig's hand really hard, even though the swats had stopped long before. Edgar was in a different kind of pain now, not just the kind coming from his backside but the pain coming from the knot that was still in his stomach.

Sig knew he couldn't go on punishing his brother like this. The flesh on his backside was surely already red and tender to the touch and there was a second part of the punishment yet to come, one that Sig was dreading. In truth, he really didn't want to force the answer out of his brother. He wanted Edgar to be honest on his own. Sig needed Edgar to think about why he was here in the first place because if he didn't think about it, it would never stop happening.

_Why are we here?_ Sig had to ask himself. _For that matter, why am I here. I should be out with my friends who are still celebrating our high school graduation weeks later. I should be fishing with my dad, learning everything he knows and starting my career. I shouldn't be here, hurting my brother like this to stop him from killing himself. Why is that anyway? Oh, Yeah, that's right, mom died and when she died, this family stopped living. All of us, dad, Norm, Edgar and myself, we all just stopped living_.

_Lead by Example_, Sig reminded himself. He detached his right hand from his brother's hand, although it was difficult because Edgar was still holding on for dear life.

Edgar actually groaned from the loss of physical contact when his brother took his hand away. _He's cross with me now because I won't answer the question. He is punishing me by withdrawing his affection. I disappointed him yet again. _

Sig took his left hand and returned it to the small of Edgar's back. Edgar assumed he was about to have his boxers lowered to his knees for the rest of this punishment so he lifted his hips up slightly, making it easier for his brother to pull them down. Sig felt him lift up and used his right hand on Edgar's back to gently push him back down. "No, Edgar, I'm not going to punish you like that to make you answer the question. I'd rather you answer it on your own, because you want to. I'm done with this part of the punishment so I don't need to see anything anyway. I know you're hurting, on the outside and on the inside...cause I'm hurting inside, too, but it's never going to get better unless we talk about it."

Sig then placed both of his hands gently down on his brother's back so he would know not to expect any more swats. Sig rubbed his brother's back very slowly, almost absentmindedly, and started to cry very softly. "Edgar, this isn't totally your fault" Sig paused and then faltered. It hurt to admit the next statement but he said it anyway. "I let you down when you needed me the most. I wasn't around to be there for you, to help you with your homework or watch you ride or to help you get through all this." Sig's voice started to break and he was struggling to get it under control. He felt the tears well up in his eyes and start to fall. He just let them go for the first time since this started – _I will not hide my feelings_. He let out a small sob when he started again, "I wasn't a good big brother, I was selfish and I ignored you. I know part of your actions were you looking for some kind of replacement because your own big brother….let you down." Sig closed his eyes and let the tears fall down his cheeks. He finally said with as much meaning as he could, "I am so sorry, Edgar, sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most. I am ashamed of myself because I never thought I would do something like that to you. I won't make promises to not do it again, I don't need too. I know it never will. I hope that someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Sig sniffled hard and used his shoulders to brush off the tears from his face.

Edgar listened and could easily tell his brother was crying. Sig almost never cried but he was now. Everything Sig said was how Edgar felt for the last six months but something about hearing his brother admitted was like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Sig verbally recognized what he did and didn't do and hoped someday that all would be forgive. _Well, that was easily done_.

Edgar reached his right hand down to the floor and grabbed the hem of his brother's jeans, tugged at it to get his attention. When he knew he had it, he grabbed hold of the ankle itself over the fabric so his brother would know how difficult this was to say. He cleared his throat and turned his face to the side so that what he said wouldn't be muffled by the bedding.

Edgar took one last deep breath and started. "I was defiant. I broke my curfew twice. I broke my grounding..."

Sig's shoulders actually slunk down in relief. _Thank you, God. _He listened intently, already knowing what was going to be said and just so very grateful to hear the words out loud. At least he thought he knew what Edgar was going to say, right up until the end.

Edgar continued "...I went somewhere I knew full well I was not allowed to go and I tried to hide it from you. I didn't tell you where I was going or where I would be. I took my bike without permission. I drove it recklessly and almost killed myself. I drank alcohol that I know I am not allowed to have. I ran away and stayed out all night hanging out with people I know I am not allowed to be with. I…"

Edgar closed his eyes, causing several large, hot teardrops to fall and paused because these were the hardest to say. He didn't want to say them because he didn't want to admit the he could hurt the people he loved as much as he had. He gently rubbed his oldest brother's ankle, almost like he was trying to sap some of his big brother's strength. Then, following his oldest brother's lead, he finally continued, "…lied to you and I am so ashamed of it because I trust you more than anyone in the world. I was disrespectful to you, which I never thought I would be. I cursed at you in anger. I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't listen and disobeyed you. Oh God, Sig, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I caused my brothers to worry about me and come looking for me, and Norman almost…"

Edgar stopped there. Sig waited hesitantly, having the feeling that something bad was coming. _Shit, forgot about this._

Edgar went back to the night's activities in his mind. Something was bothering him deeply. What the hell was it? He started reliving the race. Something happened that he didn't have time to think about until now, something very, very bad. Edgar's mind raced back to the first time he spotted his brother, Norman, stand directly in his path. _How did he even get there. Why is he even here at all? Why won't he fucking move. Silently, I screamed in my mind, MOVE, God damn it. But Norman refused to move. He had time to get out of the way but he just kept standing there, standing there directly in front of that steep drop off right behind him. He must have known it was there because he already knew he had to drive his truck around it to come get the bike. And I saw it when I watched the headlights illuminate it and I saw the sharp rocks at the bottom of it. I would have gone off that cliff if I hadn't turned at the last minute. What the hell was Norman thinking? That he could have stop me himself, like he was fucking Superman or something? It was crazy. He couldn't have stopped me unless he put his own body in the way so that I had something to keep me from going over. What the hell? Didn't he know that he'd get killed doing that? Why didn't he just let me go over the side of that cliff? He shouldn't even be here at all, _Edgar kept saying_. He wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for me and my own stupid actions. He came to get me and take me home and keep me safe. He should have been with his girlfriend or having fun with his friends. Instead, he was standing there trying to save my ass even though I didn't deserve it. Why would he do that? _

Edgar knew at that moment that he almost killed his brother because Norm made the choice to risk his own life to save his own and he knew exactly when the knot formed in his stomach and was still refusing to let go. The knot came the moment Edgar realized that his brother was never going to move and that he was going to kill him. It was the knot of guilt that someone felt when they did something so terrible to someone that they loved that they could never forgive themselves.

Edgar started suddenly sobbing extremely hard, his shoulders racking and Sig got really scared by the sudden sounds. The sobs were gut wrenching, guttural and painful. Through them Edgar cried, "Oh God, Sig, I almost killed my brother, I almost killed my brother…I can't live with it…I can't live with myself."

Edgar kept saying it, over and over again till finally he begged Sig, "Please just hit me, punch me, kick me, kill me, do whatever you want. I don't care what you do."

Sig thought, _we have to stop right now because my little brother is about to lose his mind. I need to talk to him, face to face, and explain some things_. As gently as Sig could, he lifted his brother up like he was weightless, put his feet on the floor and pinned him between his knees, which was necessary because otherwise Edgar would have fallen to the ground, his legs were shaking so badly.

Sig looked in his brother's face, covered in tear tracks, eyes screwed shut and wincing in pain, not from the punishment but from the guilt that was eating him alive. Sig grabbed Edgar's hands and shook them hard. He didn't yell (as he promised not to do) but he was very firm, "Edgar, open your eyes."

Edgar didn't comply and continued standing in front of his brother on shaking legs.

Sig released one of his own hands and put it up to his brother's face. He rubbed his hand gently along to side of his cheek, one of Edgar's favorite things to do when he was upset or nervous. "Look at me, please!" Sig asked in a whisper. Nothing. Sig used his hand and guided Edgar's face down to his and touched his forehead with his own. He kept his hand on the side of his brother's face. "Ok , then, just listen to my voice….. It was Norman's decision."

Sig felt Edgar start to struggle against him but Sig stilled him with both hands and knees. "No, it was. It was Norman's decision to go down there and it was his decision to try to save you. I was wrong for saying otherwise when we were in the kitchen. I was upset and angry and I am sorry I said it. I was wrong, very wrong. Norm was right when he said that he could make his own choices, no one made him go down there. It was not your fault and you can't take responsibility for it. Norm wouldn't want you too. Why do you think he did what he did?"

Even though Edgar had been lying to himself for so long, he didn't hesitate to say the truth. He opened his eyes, looking down at his brother's t-shirt pocket. "Because he loves me," he said simply.

"You're damn fucking right he loves you. We all love you. And this has got to stop. We can't watch you destroy yourself because you think you can't go on without HER." Sig said, starting to feel the hot tears running down his own cheeks again.

Edgar immediately pulled his head up and back. He gave his brother a look that read, "How did you know?"

Sig saw the look immediately and continued softly, "I know, I know. In our own way, we ALL stopped going on without her. But we can't do that anymore, none of us can. None of us can live like this. We have to keep going, no matter how hard. She would have wanted us too." Sig continued crying quietly.

Edgar moved his hand up to his brother's face and started rubbing off the tears. His brother was in just as much pain over the loss of their mother as he was but he just hadn't let himself see it. And he thought about how awful he was to Sig and Norm for the last few days and he just wanted to let the guilt go. Now, he wanted very much to get this over with.

"Sig, can we please just finish this?" He asked quietly, stroking his brother's cheek one finally time.

"Not if you think I am punishing you for what happened with Norman. You are NOT getting punished for that. That is something you are going to have to let go on your own. I do think that if you talked to him about it, you might feel better. He would probably like it very much if you told him you know how much he loves you," Sig replied sincerely.

"I'd like to talk to him about. As a matter of fact, I'd like to talk to him about a lot of things. But I need to move on and I can't until we finish this," Edgar replied with wisdom beyond his thirteen years.

Sig looked at his brother and had to give him a little smile.

Edgar smiled back.

Sig lost the smile quickly when he remembered what exactly it was they were finishing. It was too late to stop. _See it through to the end, Sig_. Sig looked down at his feet. He whispered brokenly to the ground, "I'm gonna...paddle you and then it's over."

"I know," was the soft reply.

Sig looked up at his brother with such pleading eyes, almost to say, _I wish to God I hadn't even gotten the damn thing out of the closet. _

Edgar read the look and gave his brother another look of his own that read _I expect to get what is coming to me so no matter how painful, I'm not letting you out of this._ Then Edgar added smartly, "Would you like me to go over the list of reasons you are punishing me again?"

_God, he is a stubborn smartass_, Sig thought. _Alright, let's get this over with_.

Sig asked, giving in just a little to a change of plans, "Would you rather bend over the bed than back over my lap."

Edgar was very grateful for the option. He would miss the physical contact with his brother but he didn't think he go through that process again. He replied, "The bed, definitely."

"Can I ask why?" Sig had to know.

Edgar looked at his brother and simply replied, "Because I don't think I deserve the...comfort...and affection...that comes with the other way. I think that's why you did it that way to begin with but...with everything I've done...I don't deserve it for this part."

_Think again, kid_. Sig only stared and then nodded slightly to his brother.

Sig stood up, a silent symbol that this was the agreed upon position from both parties. Before Edgar walked away from his brother, he put his forehead up against his brother's chest for just a second. It was a sweet gesture of acceptance before Edgar assumed the physical contact between them would end.

Then Edgar backed away and moved to stand in front of the edge of his bed. Sig turned around and tried not to look, although he wasn't sure why he did it, maybe it brought back too many bad memories. Edgar bent over the bed, grabbing a pillow and wrapping his arms around it in the process. He rested his head on the pillow and waited. To his surprise, he felt his oldest brother sit down right next to him. Sig gently placed his left hand on Edgar's back again rubbing gently. Edgar had assumed the comfort and physical affection part of all this was over and that he didn't deserve anymore.

Turns out, his big brother thought he deserved it anyway. Edgar was reminded of how much his brother loved him and didn't want to hurt him. Despite that he was being punished for all the things he did to his family, his brother had found a way to be incredibly patient and affectionate through this whole process, neither one of those being a virtue that came naturally to him. It was overwhelming. He wanted to let his brother know that it mattered, it made a difference but didn't know how. Before he could stop himself, Edgar took a deep breath and exhaled, saying with it, "I love you, Sig."

Sig sat on the bed and couldn't move. Even though Sig was about to punish him, Edgar still told him he loved him. _That's why you deserve a hell of lot more for yourself, kid, than the life you've been trying to throw away_. Sig could only replied, "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that right now" and leaned over to whisper, "I love you, too. So much. It sounds weird to say but, if I didn't, we wouldn't be here right now."

Edgar knew exactly what his brother meant.

Sig slipped his right hand under the folded blanket at the end of the bed and found what he was looking for.

Third difficult conversation almost over. The hardest part yet to come.


	9. Mom

Sig reached under the folded blanket and found the handle of the paddle. He pulled it out from underneath its hiding spot and held it in his right hand. Although he knew he'd have to use it for its intended purpose, now that the time came, he started to feel a little sick. Sig turned and looked at his baby brother with his shaggy light brown hair and profile turned away from him, his head resting in the pillow and hugging it in comfort for the upcoming ordeal. He looked like such a little kid, although Sig would never say that to him, knowing how important it was to Edgar to appear grown-up. He did love him, very much and he needed to start telling him a lot more often than he ever had in the past.

Sig just wanted to get it over with as much as Edgar did but it was hard, very hard for him to hurt his little brother and that was exactly what he was about to do. He stared at the paddle and hated feeling the weight of it in his hand. The paddle wouldn't just sting, it would cause pain that would last long after the lick fell. It would be temporary pain, but it would pain all the same, caused by him to someone that he loved. Sig had to ask himself if this really was the right thing to do after all.

Edgar turned his head so that he was now facing his oldest brother. Sig was sitting there, shoulders slumped, blond head down, holding the paddle in his hand and staring at it. Edgar thought he looked completely broken, just like he looked right after the bike accident. Edgar remembered that look, that posture and he could not have regretted more at this moment his own actions and that they were causing his brother to do this, something that was clearly killing him. Sig must have felt eyes on him because he turned his head and looked down at the dark green eyes staring up at him.

"Sig, I have a lot of ink on my list and I'd like to get it cleared off now," Edgar said with all seriousness.

Sig had to smile. He said, "You have got to be the toughest kid I know" and he could see the pride flash across his brother's face. Sig clarified a little on his statement. "That doesn't mean you need to 'take this like a man' because you want to prove something to me. You never have to prove anything to me, I already know who you are. You are an amazing kid, I mean, person, and I am very lucky to have you as my brother. Do you hear me?"

All Edgar could do was nod his understanding because if he tried to talk, he would have choked. His brother just gave him two of the greatest compliments he had ever received. It was enough.

Sig shifted himself back and turned his body more towards his brother and, as much as he hated saying it, he finished. "But, you got a little lost and you drifted in the wrong direction. And you have to know that your family is no longer going to tolerate it anymore. You screwed up, kid."

Edgar turned his head to look at the headboard of his bed. Sig's words hurt but they were true and he sensed that his big brother was about to show him just how much he had screwed up. "I know," he whispered, thinking he deserved everything he had coming.

"Fourteen," Sig said and didn't have to explain another word. Edgar closed his eyes and knew in his heart it was more than a fair number considering everything he had done.

"Seven for putting yourself in danger, three for all the other stuff. Then four for forgetting your family loves you very, very much which will NEVER happen again," Sig added with finality.

Edgar already knew the last four would be the hardest licks he would get. Sig wouldn't have to tell him. He also know who each one represented; His mother, his father, his oldest brother and his older brother. Sig had chosen the number of licks with great thought and personal meaning and for some reason, it meant something to Edgar that his brother didn't just pick a random number out of the sky. Each lick would hurt but knowing they had meaning would make it a little easy to take.

Sig could see Edgar nodded his head, acknowledging that he heard what was said. Sig couldn't help himself but put the paddle down for just a minute and started stroking the back of his brother's head with his right hand, feeling the softness of his hair. He leaned over and whispered, "When this is done, it's over, clean list and we are starting a new life, all of us, I promise."

That was the touch that broke him. Edgar lost it right there and then. _I need you_, _bro_, he thought, probably admitting it to himself for the first time, _I need you to set the example in my life. I need you to spend time with me, guide me and don't let me fall. I need you to show me how to be honest and that's its ok that I tell people how I feel. I need you to help me grieve for our mother because I don't know how and it frightens me that I might break if I try. I need you to stay with me till this is all finished and forgive me in the end._ Edgar was crying before the first lick even fell.

Sig took the paddle back in his hand and grasped the handle, wrapping his fingers around it. He tried very hard not to think about it but he raised it and went to deliver the first lick. He almost stopped, thinking he didn't have the heart for any of this when he noticed his brother's ankle for the first time.

It was cut with scrapes and scratches that were just starting to scab over. It had obviously happened from the accident but Edgar hadn't made an effort to take care of the small wounds. They weren't that bad, minor really, surface wounds. But they were wounds all the same and it could have been worse. It could have been much worse. Edgar could have lost his foot or his leg or caused internal injuries. He could have hit his head and caused permanent brain damage. He could have been in a wheelchair for life. He could have died. All because he didn't care about himself anymore.

Sig stopped hesitating and gave his brother the first lick. It was hard, harder than he wanted to give him but it was better than what could have happened, what could happen, if this kid continued to think that he didn't matter to anyone.

Edgar yelped loudly through his tears. The paddle stung on already sore flesh and covered a wide range of area. His first thought was that it wasn't worse than the bite of the strap but just caused an all over sting. He grasped the pillow as tightly as he could and took the next lick, just as hard as the first. He had to use every thing he had to stay in place and by the third lick, he gave up. He went completely limp and stopped fighting it. He cried hard after the next two licks, letting himself flinch after each one. After the next one, Edgar flinched significantly, his body sliding a little forward on the bed.

Sig stopped for a minute and remembered he promised his brother that he would tell him everything that was going to happen before it happened.

"Edgar, please don't be upset but I'm going to wrap my arm around you so that you don't flinch away. You can't help it in the position you are in, it's a natural reaction and I am scared to death I am going to hurt your back or legs if you move," Sig explained as gently and as softly as he could. He hadn't anticipated this problem as he had intended to complete the entire punishment over his knee where he had more control of the situation. He tried to sooth his brother by rubbing his hand again on his lower back and waited patiently for some kind of response. _We can always go back to over my lap if need be._

Edgar listened to his brother's explanation and felt like saying, _I can take it Sig_, but he knew his brother was right and was trying desperately not to seriously hurt him. He controlled his tears enough in order to say, "OK."

Sig gently put his left arm around his brother's waist and pulled him close to his side. Edgar allowed this to happen without resistance and realized for the first time that it was kind of like someone was holding him, not holding him down but just holding him and he started to cry for lots of different reasons.

Sig stopped to give his brother a moment to get use to it. He also realized that it was like he was holding his brother for the first time and that it was ok, that it felt like he was protecting him like a big brother should. _I need to protect you and you have to let me_. Sig said firmly, "I don't want you near that place or those people ever again. You are a million times better than that. You are not going to hurt yourself anymore or look for ways to get yourself killed. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Edgar sobbed through his tears.

"Yes, what?" Sig demanded. This was absolutely the one and only area that he needed to be totally respected on and now he wanted to hear it.

Edgar didn't hesitate to give the respect his big brother deserved. "Yes, sir. I will never go there again and I'll stop trying to hurt myself. I promise, sir."

"I mean it, Edgar. I'm holding you to those promises," Sig felt that he shouldn't be the only one making life-changing promises today and he gave his brother the hardest swat yet, finishing the round of seven with meaning.

Edgar winced, yelped and tried to snuggle closer to his brother's side. Sig held him tighter, trying to comfort him the best he could through the hurt. "It's ok, kid. Just breath. You are sooo brave. Halfway done. Hang in there."

Sig waited a little bit so that his brother could recover and Edgar breathing became more even.

Then he landed the next three licks, clearly with a lot less intensity of the previous round. They still had to hurt because Edgar flinched against his brother's side and continued crying softly. Sig stopped again. Edgar was still sobbing but Sig said quietly, "All kids make mistakes, they break their curfew and lie and try to get away with things and lots of stupid stuff like that. You are no different than anyone else your age. Maybe not everyone manages to rack up as many of those stupid things in record time like yourself but you wouldn't be a kid if you didn't make mistakes along the way. It's normal and it's forgivable. Do you understand me, Edgar?"

"Yes, I understand," Edgar managed to get out through the sobs.

Sig took a big sigh and steadied himself. Then he asked his brother, "Do you remember what the last four licks are for?"

Edgar nodded his head.

"I know its hard to talk right now but I need to hear the answer from you." Sig took a breath and asked again quietly, "What are the last four licks for?" He tried to comfort his brother as best he could, squeezing him gently and letting him calm himself down. Sig waited patiently.

Edgar tried to control the sobs. He concentrated on his breathing and tried to slow his rapid heartbeat. He tried to ignore his stinging backside, although his butt felt like it was on fire. He tried to ignore the fear of how hard these licks were going to be and how difficult they would be to take. When he was able to find his voice, he cleared his throat and said in a whisper, "For forgetting how much my family loves me," he said and closed his eyes causing two large teardrops to fall slowly down his face.

Sig was so grateful this was almost over. He readied himself and told his brother with meaning in his voice, "I'm gonna make these ones you will remember for the rest of your life."

Edgar nodded, understanding his brother's meaning. He screwed his eyes shut and he braced himself with everything he had left.

The four licks that came at the end fell exactly the same, quickly, without pause and…as light as a feather, so light that Edgar almost didn't feel them. What he did feel was his brother remove his arm and release the hold. _The physical affection was over_ was Edgar's only clear thought, nothing about being happy the punishment had ended as well.

Sig dropped the paddle to the floor as quickly as he could and pushed it underneath the bed with his foot. He couldn't get it out of his hand or his sight fast enough. He turned back to his youngest brother, who hadn't moved or said a word. He gently peeled his brother's grip from the pillow and pulled him to his feet, placing him back between his knees. Edgar back away and Sig let him go, instantly concerned by Edgar's motion.

"It's over, kid. Blank list," Sig looked into Edgar's dark green eyes, which held no expression. Sig wanted nothing more to hug him and hold him and tell him how much he loved him, just like he always wanted his father to do when this moment came. But Edgar didn't move or give any kind of indication that that was what he wanted too. Sig started to think that maybe Edgar just wanted to be left alone to be in his room like all the times before. Maybe the kid had just had enough. Maybe he didn't want his big brother around, the big brother that just punished him and made him face things he didn't want too. _Maybe I should just leave_.

Sig gave Edgar one last look to make sure he was ok, at least as ok as he could be and made the slightest motion to the door.

"**DON"T LEAVE, DON'T LEAVE ME. WHY DID SHE LEAVE US? WHY? WHY? I DON"T UNDERSTAND!**" Edgar started screaming, burying his hands in his face and sobbing uncontrollably. He doubled over and started to sink to the floor.

Sig jumped up and caught Edgar before he was halfway to the carpet. Sig wrapped his left arm under his brother's collapsing knees, his right around his back and picked him up, holding his head against his shoulder. Sig sat back down on the bed and put his brother in his lap, being as careful as he could not to cause further hurt and held him tightly to his chest. Edgar wrapped both arms around his brother's back and started clawing at the back of his shirt, grasping the fabric, trying to get closer to him. Edgar buried his face in Sig's neck and screamed "WHY?" so many times Sig thought he would never stop saying it. Sig held on tightly because his brother was crying so hard his entire body was racked with uncontrollable shaking. All Sig could do was rock him gently and hold him as close to his chest as possible. After awhile, Edgar stopped screaming but couldn't speak, still he kept trying to say something but couldn't get anything out he was crying so hard.

"Shhh, don't try and talk now. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. The whole way, remember," Sig whispered into his brother's soft hair, "I know, there's a lot I want to say too. Take your time. I won't leave you...I'll never leave you."

Sig didn't know how long Edgar cried because he cried with him and didn't stop himself. He didn't suck down a single tear or swallow back any emotion. He cried softly into Edgar's hair, nuzzling his cheek against his head and grieved for the loss of his mother.

Finally, Edgar got out between sobs, "I miss her every hour…."

"….of every day, I know, I miss her too, so much," Sig finished his brother's thought, letting him know he wasn't alone in his grief.

"No one puts the decorations up anymore," Edgar sobbed softly.

Sig knew that there was a lot more meaning to Edgar's statement than just decorations but he reassured him brother without hesitation, "We'll put them up again, together, from now on, I promise. There's a lot of things we stopped doing that we'll do again. It won't be like before but it will be a hell of a lot better than it has been."

Edgar felt a tremendous amount of comfort in that statement.

"She was a good mom and a good person. We were very lucky we had her for the time that we did. We couldn't have ask for a better mother, Edgar." Sig couldn't have meant that statement any more.

"Why did God take her, Sig? Did I do something wrong?" Edgar asked through the tears.

Sig knew it was a child's question and he was reminded he that he had a child sitting in his arms right now. As much as his little brother wanted to act like a grown up, he was still very young and needed guidance, his family's guidance. Sig explained as gently as he could, "You didn't do anything wrong, nothing you could have ever done would have made God take mom away. I don't know why he did. God knew we needed her here. Maybe someday he'll explain it to us."

Edgar got quiet and said, "I miss her hugs. I use to brush them off. I didn't want her to know how much I liked them. I don't know why I did that" then he added, sounding embarrassed, "No one hugs me anymore."

Sig paused and just couldn't help himself, "Ummm, hello" as if to point out the obvious. He was hugging Edgar right at this very moment.

Edgar laughed and Sig was so thankful that his little brother was going to be ok. Sig thought about Edgar's statement and knew that he was absolutely correct. _No kid should have to go through life without being hugged_. "Hey, you know I take after dad when it comes to the 'huggy' stuff but there were a lot of times over the years that I wanted to hug you and tell you I loved you, which I do (Sig tickled his brother a little and he giggled through his tears) but I didn't want you to think you I wasn't your Super Cool Tough Biggest Brother. Now, you're stuck with me being your Super Huggy Mushy Biggest Brother cause I'm gonna hug you more times than you want, like in front of your friends and someday your girlfriends and…."

"Will you hug Norman, too?" Edgar asked mischievously.

Sig had to think about that one. "I don't know…what do you think he would do?" he asked his littlest brother.

"Probably punch you in the stomach" Edgar replied without a second thought.

"You're probably right" Sig thought about it for a second, "But it would be worth it. I think Norman needs to know he is loved, too."

Edgar was reminded of his middle brother and he could help but think back to what happened tonight. He got sad and realized although the knot in his stomach was gone, the pain of it still remained. Out of what seemed like nowhere to Sig, Edgar said with heartfelt meaning, "I'm sorry I almost killed your brother."

Instantly, Sig got worried. _Please, let's not go back to that_.

Sig tried to dodge the serious turn the conversation was about to take. "Which one?" he asked, referred to both of his brothers.

Edgar gave him a playful punch in the shoulder but remained serious and was desperate to take the conversation in that direction. "I mean it Sig, I think its something I will feel bad about for the rest of my life."

"Edgar, we talked about that already. Forget it." Sig said firmly.

"I don't know if I can. Maybe I shouldn't" Edgar said in a lofty voice.

"What are you talking about?" Sig asked.

Edgar grew serious. To Sig, it seemed like he aged about ten years right in his arms. Edgar went on to explain his thinking. 'I think it's something I should always remember because the next time I think about doing something stupid, I want to remember that I may end up hurting the ones I love."

Sig almost started crying again and said, "If it makes you feel better, I forgive you for almost killing my little brother, little brother."

Edgar sighed against Sig's chest. Strangely, the apology helped. Edgar thought about his oldest brother. Sig had been so good to him this whole time that Edgar was overcome with regret. Sig wasn't just good to him now but had always been there for him growing up. Edgar had just forgot about all the good times when things got bad. He was ashamed of how he treated his brother. Not just his brother but his whole family.

"Sig, I'm sorry. I should have never treated you the way I did. I'm sorry for all of it." Edgar said with absolute regret.

"Apology accepted" Sig whispered into Edgar's hair, truly hoping his brother would let this go. Then he whispered, "I'm sorry had to I spanked you…really, really sorry. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I hated hurting you," Sig sounded like he was going to start crying again.

Edgar didn't want to go down this road again so he just shrugged his shoulders and added "Needed to be done."

Sig started laughing uncontrollably. Edgar pulled away from his brother and looked at him like he just lost his mind. Sig got his laughter under control and saw his little brother looking at him with total confusion. He ruffled Edgar's hair and said, "Inside joke, don't worry about. I'm not going crazy."

Edgar still looked a little confused, like he didn't get it, which was true.

Sig pulled Edgar back into his embrace and stroked his hair. He couldn't help but ask, "Are you…OK?" hoping Edgar caught his meaning.

Edgar just nodded into his chest and rested his head over Sig's heart, listening to its steady rhythm.

"You got the message at the end, right?" Sig asked, referring to the last four licks.

"Yes, I will never forget my family loves me. They were licks I'll never forget." Then Edgar added with a smile to himself, "By the way, my end got all the messages you sent." Edgar said smartly.

"You are such a smart ass, sometimes," Sig said with an extra squeeze. He then added with all seriousness, "Please don't make me send any more messages this summer." It was the sweetest warning Edgar ever got. It was Sig's way of telling him that he would spank him again if he continued to act like an idiot. Sig was not going to promise to put the paddle away and never touch it again like their mother did. That was ok with Edgar because he had no intentions of ever putting his big brother through that ever again. But it was a good reminder either way. He needed to know that someone was always going to be there to pull him out of the fire.

"Hey, can you forgive me for not being around lately?' Sig asked, feeling this was a good a time as any.

Edgar yawned but said, "Apology accepted easily. You are a good big brother, the best…don't tell Norm, ok?" Sig knew Edgar was joking but it still puffed up his pride a little just to hear it.

Edgar continued to listen to the sound of his brother's heart. It was hypnotic and soothing. He was starting to get very tired. Actually, he was exhausted. He hadn't really slept in two days and the emotional rollercoaster of the night's activities were taking their toll on him. He didn't realize how tired he really was until that moment. He wanted his brother to stay with him so they could keep talking. It had been so long since they talked and Edgar had really missed that but he just couldn't seem to keep his eyes open any longer. He yawned again and got quiet.

Sig sensed Edgar was starting to fall asleep but was not about to give up the affection. He had to admitted to himself that he was the one that wanted it now. Sig picked his brother up in his arms, Edgar's head against his chest and moved them both to the head of the bed. Sig laid down, keeping Edgar in his arms and he leaned back against the pillows. Edgar quickly snuggled up to his brother, wrapping his left arm around him. Sig absentmindedly started stroking Edgar's cheek, his other cheek still against Sig's chest.

Sig told his brother softly, "You know, mom is still looking out for us. She's still around. You just have to look for signs that she's there."

Edgar was almost asleep from the gentle touch on his cheek but said without having to think about it, "Like the way you are touching my face - she use to do that when she wanted to get me to go to sleep when I was little."

Sig didn't even realize he was doing it until his brother pointed it out.

"Yep, just like that."

Within minutes, Edgar was sound asleep.

Sig stayed with him for a long time, not wanting to leave. Finally, as carefully as he could, he detached himself from his brother and slid off the bed. He put Edgar down, on his stomach, of course, and stretched out his legs. _He's going to be taller than me someday_, Sig thought to himself. Then he took the blanket at the end of the bed and placed it over his brother. He stared at him for a little while, watching his even breathing and just reassured himself that he was ok. One final time, Sig stroked his cheek and his hair and silently told Edgar he was loved and then turned out the light on the nightstand. _I love you so much._ He grabbed the paddle that he had put under the bed and he left Edgar's room, forgetting to take his class ring.

Sig took the paddle and went back to his parent's room. He returned it to its secret spot and grabbed his mother's sweater from where he left it, taking it to his room and leaving it on his own bed. He quickly changed into a dry t-shirt since the one he was wearing was soaked in tears, both his and his brothers. Then he went downstairs and somehow remembered to move the laundry in the dryer. Then he went outside and smoked about a half a pack of cigarettes and tried not to think about the fourth and finally difficult conversation he was going to have. That conversation would come tomorrow evening, when the phone would ring and he would have to pick it up.

Finally, he returned into the house, not locking the door as Norm would be home any minute. He went back upstairs and brushed his hair and teeth and did other things to get ready to go to sleep. As he walked down the hallway, he looked in on his brother one final time and then went to his room. He turned off his light and climbed into bed. He took his mother's sweater, putting it to his face and inhaling the lingering perfume and cried himself to sleep.

Third difficult conversation over…finally. A new life. One more conversation to go, at least for Sig. Norman, on the other hand, had a few of his own.


	10. Dixie Cups

**READERS: Again, that you for the wonderful comments. I look forward to the reviews every time I update this story. Speaking of updates, I went back to previous chapters and changed some details that were bugging me. I tried to take some of the harshness out because that was not my intention. If you are reading this story for the first time, you didn't miss anything. **

**This, by far, is my favorite chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are very welcomed. **

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To this day, Norm couldn't remember what movie he watched with his girlfriend that night. He did remember that his girlfriend was fairly persistence in her efforts to get him to make love to her. They had done it before and her parents were out of the house so there was nothing stopping him. Nothing except the constant worry about what was happening back at his own home. Norman knew, even at a young age, that he was a magnificent lover. He wasn't arrogant about it in the least, just quietly confident in his hidden natural talent. But he had feelings for this girl and he wasn't about to make love to her in order to forget about his own worries. He also felt that somehow it would have been disrespectful to his mother and her "special trips" if he engaged in that kind of activity now. He did cuddle on the sofa with his girl, ate popcorn and watched something on television. After the movie ended, he gave her a long, passionate kiss and said goodnight.

He drove home, not knowing what to expect to find when he got back to the house. He silently prayed that things would just be like normal, like his little brother hadn't just almost killed himself and had to face the consequences of his actions. He tried not to think about his big brother having to handle the outcome of those consequences all on his own. Norm knew it had to be very difficult on both of them and he wished that there would have been something more he could have done. Most importantly, he hoped that whatever happened, it wouldn't ruin their relationship with each other. Everyone in his family had lost enough already.

When he got back to the house, he parked his baby, and make the long trip up the walkway to the back porch. He noticed the ash tray next to the porch steps was full of smoked cigarette butts. _Disgusting habit_, he thought to himself and dumped the tray into the outside garbage can. He couldn't help but recognize the outward sign that Sig had been very nervous to smoke so much in one night. He wondered if the excessive smoking happened before or after the punishment was handed out.

Norm climbed the steps and opened the unlocked door. He turned off the porch light and locked the door behind him. He flipped on the light switch and illuminated the kitchen. _No blood to be seen_. Everything looked to be in order. He stood there perfectly still for a while and listened. The house was quiet, all except for the tumbling of the dryer and the metal zipper of the drying jeans clanging against the dryer drum. After listening for a few minutes, _no screaming_ and he hung his keys up on the hook and headed directly upstairs.

The first thing he did was the first thing on his mind. He went directly to Edgar's room and stood in the doorway. The door was open but the room was dark inside except for the moonlight coming in through the window. He could see his little brother was sound asleep under a blanket and was laying on his stomach, arms curled up under his pillow.

Norm wondered why the bedroom door was left open and he had a feeling someone left it open on purpose, he just wasn't sure who that someone was. All three of them always slept with their bedroom doors shut since they became teenagers. When they were little, they often slept with their doors open in case a monster came out of the closet and one of their parents, well, just mom, would hear them crying. She was always there in an instant, providing the magic "cup of water" and a soft kiss to the forehead. Norm leaned against the doorframe for a minute and had to ask himself who would come now and chase the monsters away. If Edgar did have a nightmare or needed someone in the middle of the night for whatever reason, who would come? _Duh, me, idiot. Or Sig. I guess either one of us. We wouldn't be mom but someone had to come, right? _He knew for certain no one came in the last six months because no one in this house would have been there to physically or mentally do it.

The guilt hit Norman like a ton of bricks. He thought about all those times he sat in his truck, not wanting to come into the house because mom wouldn't be around. He realized now it was very possible that at some point while sitting in his truck, there was someone else already in the house waiting around for him. _Selfish._

Norman walked softly into the room and took a closer look at his brother. Even in only the moonlight, he could tell the kid had been crying not long ago. His face still had tear marks that ran down his cheeks. _Of course he cried. What did I expect? Oh, God, please let it not have been that bad_. Norman wanted to wake his brother up and confirm that he was ok but the kid had just been through hell in the last few days and he needed to rest. He looked totally wiped out. Norman also notice how young and innocent his brother looked and it reminded him that Edgar still had a lot of growing up to do. He wasn't going to do it alone, though, Norman knew that now.

As softly as he came into the room, Norm turned and left, leaving the bedroom door open. He walked down the hallway to his own room and went in. He sat down on his bed and started to take off his shoes when he heard the sound of very muffled sobbing. He froze. He listened and could tell it was not coming from Edgar's room. It was coming from Sig's. _Well, not going to hang out here and listen to that_. He put his shoes back on and left his room. He checked on Edgar again, just to confirm the noise wasn't coming from him and went back downstairs.

He went out into the garage and looked at the motorbike. It was a disaster. Twisted metal and bent tires greeted him almost like there were laughing at him. _Keep laughing_, he thought. Norman loved a challenge and would obsess over it until he solved the riddle. He worked on the bike for about an hour, making at least a little progress and decided he was pretty tired himself. He put away his tools and left the garage. He had gotten himself covered in oil and dirt so he headed up to take a shower.

When he got upstairs, he looked in on Edgar again from the doorway and then went to his room to grab some clean clothes. Then he went into the bathroom, grabbed a quick shower, brushed his teeth and got dried off. He dressed in a t-shirt and sleep pants and took his dirty clothes down the hallway to the hamper. It was full of laundry that needed to be done. _Tomorrow_, he thought, _I'm too tired now_. He dropped his dirty clothes in and headed to his room.

As he passed Sig's room, he stopped for a minute. Sig's bedroom door was shut and Norm listened outside of his room. He didn't hear anything and prayed his oldest brother had drifted off to sleep. Sig must have been exhausted, too. Norm heard him pacing around his room the night before when he and Edgar had gotten into the argument in the kitchen. Norm thought about how all of this must have been on an 18 year old just graduated from high school. His heart went out to his oldest brother and he silently promised himself that the three of them would be in this together. He wasn't about to let Sig take all of this on himself.

Norm headed to his room but thought, _one last check_, and passed by his own room and went to look in on his little brother. When he entered to room and looked down at the sleeping form, he saw two dark green eyes staring back at him. _Thank you, God_.

"Can't sleep?" Norm asked softly.

Edgar's voice was a little hoarse when he replied, "I don't think it's me that can't sleep, Norm."

Norman gave him a crooked smile, "Sorry, I was working on the bike. Did I wake you up?"

Edgar smiled back, "It's ok, I'm glad actually" but had trouble talking. His throat felt like sandpaper. Between the crying and crying and more crying, he had dehydrated himself.

Norm noticed how hoarse his brother sounded. "Want some water?" he asked gently.

Edgar nodded gratefully. Norm turned and left the room. Edgar listened to his brother's footsteps as he went down the stairs and into the kitchen. He heard the glass getting pulled out of the cabinet and the freezer door open. He heard the ice hitting the glass and the water running.

Edgar was a little surprised Norm didn't just go into the bathroom and grab one of those little Dixie cups by the sink and fill it with water. It would have been much easier. But it wasn't about what was easier. That wouldn't have been good enough. Little Dixie cup with just slightly cool water wasn't good enough for him, at least according to Norman. Norman was going to make sure he had ice cold water in a normal size drinking glass. Norman was tired, he had worked all day, stayed up late worrying, no doubt, and almost gotten himself killed but that didn't stop him from making sure his brother had the best, was comfortable and that he had done all that he could for him.

Edgar laid there in the moonlight and wondered how the hell he could have ever convinced himself that his brothers didn't care about him or love him or want what was best for him. Little things that got purposefully ignored along the way came flooding back to him, like the plate of food, the hot tea, the worry in Sig's eyes when he came home late the night before, the fact the Norm was still waiting on the sofa when he walked by, the ring, and now an ice cold glass of water. These were just a few of the things they always did for him, even when mom was still alive. Oh yeah, they beat the shit out of him on occasion (mostly Sig), kicked over his blocks when he was little (just for the fun of it), hid his favorite stuffed animal (always in a place too high for him to reach) and would purposely try and get him in trouble by picking on him at restaurants when the family was trying to have a nice meal (that was Norm's specialty). But he would also catch them turning and looking back on the walk home from school to make sure he was still lagging behind them. They would pull him out of the street when a car was coming and he was too busy playing to notice, of course smacking him on the back of the head while doing it. Lots and lots of little things that added up to one big thing - L.O.V.E. _I AM an idiot_, Edgar thought. _God, I've missed them_.

Edgar listened to the dryer door being opened. Then a minute later, slamming shut. He listened to his brother coming up the steps and into his room holding his folded laundry (another little thing) and carrying a large glass of ice water.

"Do you want the light on?" Norm asked, dropping the folded clothes on Edgar's desk chair.

"No, I can see pretty good. Full moon tonight." Edgar said, propping himself up on his elbows.

"That explains a lot," Norm said flatly.

Norm walked over and handed his brother the glass. Edgar took it and drank the entire contents in under a few seconds. Norman thought he looked like a man that just came back from the desert. Edgar handed the glass back to his brother with an "ahhh", listening to the ice clinking at the bottom and said, "Thanks, I was really thirsty."

Norm put the glass on the nightstand and noticed his older brother's class ring sitting under the lamp. He didn't say anything about it but it caught his eye immediately. He wondered for a fleeting second if anyone would think to get him one this year since he would be graduating in the spring. Norman didn't think his father would remember something like that. _Doesn't matter, its only a ring_. Norm turned back to his little brother who was staring at him intently. _I have so many questions. The kid probably doesn't want to talk about it. He's tired, let him sleep._

"I'll go and let you get some rest," Norm said softly as he turned to leave.

"Stay" was the soft reply, followed up with a toss back of the blanket. Edgar slid on his belly over to the other side of the comfy queen-size bed (_how did I get the big room again_) and couldn't hide the tiniest of winces when the fabric of the soft blanket brushed against a rather tender area of his person.

Norm noticed the wince in an instant. His heart clenched and he remembered what exactly it was that had him so worried for the last few hours. He couldn't help himself and just slipped out, "Oh, kid, you still hurtin'?" he asked softly.

Edgar just shrugged if off.

"There's some ice left in the glass," Norman said with a smile, trying to get his brother to do the same.

Edgar wasn't in the mood for smiling so he patted the newly opened side of the bed, a non-verbal gesture of "Get in" to his brother.

Norm stood there for a minute. This wasn't something they ever really did, not even when they were little. They never slept together. _Never is a funny word, Norm. You never know when the monster is going to jump out of the closet. Better be here when it does._ Norm climbed in and laid down, putting both hands under his head on the pillow. The bed was warm and soft and felt wonderful. Edgar tossed the blanket over him and settle back down on his belly, his face turned towards his brother and laid his head down on the pillow. He could make out Norm's profile perfectly in the moonlight and he could see that he was biting on his lower lip. They were both quiet for a while. Finally, Norm spoke.

"Well, you're still alive," he said with his usual sarcasm.

"So are you, big brother," Edgar went right to referencing the night's activities.

"Lucky, I guess," Norm caught Edgar's meaning.

Edgar got very serious. He wasn't in the mood for Norm's typical dry humor intended to side track difficult topics. Normally, he loved his brother for his constant ability to alleviate the tension on any subject with his joking but now wasn't one of those times. Edgar reached over and put his hand on Norman's chest, an unusual gesture between them, one that indicated this was a time to be serious.

"Norman, you couldn't have stopped me!" Edgar said in a whisper.

"You don't know that. I'm pretty strong. The gun show IS always open for business," Norm said. He really didn't want to talk about this part of the night. He was significantly more worried about other events that took place this evening. Between the tear marks, the sobbing coming from Sig's room and the obvious pain his little brother still felt, he was starting to let his imagination run wild. _What the hell happened here_?

Edgar ignored the playful comments and continued, "You're not that strong. No one is," and then he added slowly and with meaning, "Don't ever do that again. Don't ever risk your life for me."

Norm actually laughed out loud and continued staring at the ceiling, "Yeah, ok, you're really funny tonight. That's my job, kid. Came with your birth certificate. If you look hard enough in the corner, its reads "Has big brothers – will always risk lives to save.'"

Edgar shook his head. Sometimes this big brother was more difficult to deal with than the other big brother. At least the bigger one knew when to be serious.

"It's not your job. It's not your responsibility. I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt because of me," Edgar tried to get Norman to see his meaning.

Norm had had enough of this conversation. _I guess I'm going to have to actually be….serious_. He turned on his side so that he was now making eye contact with his little brother. Edgar's hand slid off his chest to rest in between them. Norm folded his arm under his head and stared at Edgar very hard.

"You're right. It's not a job. It's a privilege. Comes with the Hansen name," Norm said quietly. "I would do anything in this world to keep you safe. You don't have the right to asked me not too. So please just shut up about it." Then he added quickly, "Don't do stupid shit and then you won't have to worry about anything."

Edgar lowered his eyes in defeat. He had to wonder how he just kept losing these battles with his brothers. Edgar hated not getting his way but knew when it was time to let it go.

"I don't want to see you get hurt is all," Edgar whispered.

"Sucks, doesn't it, seeing someone you love get hurt?" Norm asked.

Edgar got it. He lowered his head shamefully. Norm thought he looked like a kid that just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I'm sorry, Norm, really sorry," Edgar whispered. He couldn't have meant it more.

"Me too. Not just for tonight and what happened…and then whatever happened afterwards…but for letting you get in that mess in the first place," Norman actually sounded pretty serious, so much that he didn't even recognize his own voice.

"It was my own fault, no one else's." Edgar said quickly, "I forgot."

"Forgot what?" Norm asked

"That my family loves me. All of them. Believe me, it won't happen again," Edgar said, almost to himself.

Norm raised his hand and with his left index finger, ran it along the bridge of Edgar's nose. "We all do…all of us…Sig, too, no matter what he had to do."

Edgar smiled at his brother. He could see that Norm still looked worried about things and he knew what he was worried about. Edgar didn't mind talking about what happened.

"You want to ask me, I can tell," Edgar nudged his brother's foot under the covers.

Norman let out a big sigh. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

"I think you are not going to go to sleep until you know so…" Edgar nudged him again.

"I was worried…I don't even know why…I trust Sig…and I know you are a tough kid, but…I think what I am imagining must be a lot worse that what it was…at least I hope it is." Norm was rambling and he knew it. He just didn't know how to ask the questions he wanted too.

Edgar sensed Norman was rambling because he was nervous and scared to know what happened. He immediately thought of a solution. "Ok, here's what we'll do. You ask me questions, any questions you want, I don't care, anything and I promise I will be totally honest with you. Then I'm going to ask you anything I want. It's up to you if you want to be honest or not. Sound like a plan?" Edgar asked and smiled to himself in the darkness. Already he was following his oldest brother's example.

Norm didn't know where to start, he had so many questions. _Start with what is worrying you the most, dummy._

Norm waited, trying to get the question to come out right. Finally he asked, "Was Sig mean?"

"No, not at all. He never lost his temper once, although he could have easily and I won't have blamed him. He never yelled at me or scared me in anyway. He was really patient." Edgar answered proudly.

"You are talking about our brother, right?" Norm asked, a little shocked.

Edgar finally laughed a little. "Yes, our brother, Mr. Impatience himself. I don't know where all the patience came from but he was."

"How?" Norm was quite curious now.

"He talked to me a lot before he punished me. I think he told me things he never told anyone, actually I'm sure he told me things he never told anyone. He explained a lot of things, let me know exactly what was going to happen and he gave me a lot of time to understand why he was doing what he was doing," Edgar answered.

Norm was suspicious. What was there to explain? It wasn't like it was the kid's first trip over the kitchen table. The kid knew the routine by now, Sig had to know that, right? Something different happened tonight, Norm could sense it. Something very different.

"Any new designs on the kitchen table?" Norm knew it was a leading question.

Edgar saw this question coming from a mile away. "I won't know. Didn't have to look at it."

"How's the old strap these days?" Norm could play this game, too.

"Won't know. He didn't use it." Edgar knew he was being sneaky but this was way too much fun. He could actually see the wheels turning in Norm's mind.

Norm stared at his brother and could tell the kid was playing with him. After a few minutes of trying to figure this all out, he shrugged and said disgustedly, "Alright, I give up. It was Professor Plum with the candlestick in the library."

Edgar let out a giggle. His brother really was too much sometimes.

Norm was done playing. "OK, spit it out. You're killing me."

Edgar took a deep sigh. Come to think of it, some of this was hard to say but he would try to be honest. "He came to my room and sat with me. We talked for a long time about a lot of stuff. He made sure I knew what I was in for. He told me in his own way that he loved me and that it was hurting him to do this but that he loved me enough to do it. Then…." Edgar stopped and took a deep breath "I took off my jeans… and he put me over his lap…well, I guess I put myself over his lap because he didn't force me or be rough with me…and then he…spanked me pretty hard with just his hand….then he paddled me and it was over."

Norm remained expressionless. He absorbed this information. Finally, he managed to find his voice, "That's all very interesting to me. How does one get paddled when we don't have a paddle in the house?"

"Oh, we do…trust me…we do!" Edgar said with such certainty that Norman knew he was not kidding.

Edgar could see Norm was really stumped on this one but he wasn't about to share his oldest brother's secret so he added, "Ask Sig about it someday. He'll tell ya."

Norm was definitely going to ask how big brother knew of the existence of the mysterious paddle so he filed in the back of his mind for another day. His only concern right now was for his younger brother and how all of this played out.

"Ok, stupid question but I'll ask it…how bad?" Norm hoped Edgar wasn't going to make him explain what he was asking.

"Pretty bad, I guess. Sig's got a hard hand and he didn't go easy on me. The worst is having to trust the person doing it to eventually stop because it didn't seem like there was an end in sight at one point. But I did trust him and he stopped when he felt like I had gotten enough. He wasn't mean and he didn't go too far but he didn't let up when I was sobbing either." Edgar whispered in the darkness.

"It must have been bad for you to cry. I don't remember you ever crying a lot when dad strapped you," Norm was genuinely concerned.

"When dad strapped me, I never felt like I could cry. I know you know what I mean. But the spanking did hurt, stung a lot. Don't get me wrong, but it could have been worse," Edgar finished his own explanation.

"But it did get worse…Edgar…I'm…" Norm started.

"Yes, it did get a little worse but it's ok, really. The paddle stung but it wasn't was bad as the strap. Sig did send the message though." Edgar could tell Norm was getting upset by the way he was biting at his fingernail.

Norm looked scared. He asked quietly, "How many licks?"

"Fourteen," Edgar didn't feel like he needed to explain anymore than that. The manner and strength of the licks were between him and Sig and it was going to stay that way.

Norm didn't know how he felt about that number but he knew the paddle must have hurt his little brother and he felt awful. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be, Norman," Edgar whispered back. "I screwed up and someone loved me enough to let me know it. Now, it's over."

"But you're still hurting," Norm whispered.

"It'll go away."

Norm was getting uncomfortable with the emotions he was starting to feeling. As usual, he got sarcastic, "So, did Sig finish with the old 'Let's not have this conversation again' statement. I did always love that part."

Edgar got quiet so his brother would know exactly how he felt. "No, Norm, he didn't. He finished by holding me while I cried my eyes out and he told me everything was forgiven and that we were starting a new life because mom was gone and we couldn't keep living like she is somehow going to come back."

Norm rolled onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling. He didn't say anything but Edgar could see his bottom lip start to quiver. Edgar waited for Norm to say something but gave up after awhile. He slid over to his brother and put his head on his chest, his arm around him, leaving his hand over his heart. Norman wrapped both arms around his little brother and squeezed him tightly.

Norm was choking back the tears. Finally, he cleared his throat and managed to get out in a broken voice, "Big brother did pretty good, huh?" Norman glanced over to the ring laying on the nightstand and a tear slid down his temple, on to the pillow. _You won, big bro. I don't know how the hell you did it and what the hell I was worried about_. _I'll never doubt you again. You are more than welcomed to set the tone in this house, only usurped by our father, who is eventually going to come home and how are we going to go back to that? I will follow your example, though, while he is away. I am going to be there for you and this kid and I am going to try and be more open, as hard as that is for me. Mom, well, I'm not ready for that. Can't. Still hurts too much_

"Sig's the best…not as good as you, though. Don't tell him I said that." Edgar yawned and closed his eyes. Norm knew Edgar was totally kidding but it puffed his pride to hear it. He yawned too. Now that he felt secure in the knowledge that his little brother was ok, that they were all ok, he started to fall asleep. "I'm beat, kid. I'm gonna go to bed."

Edgar opened his eyes like a little kid that wanted to fight bedtime. He remembered something "Hey, I didn't get to ask you anything."

"Like what?"

"What's it like to be with a girl…I mean, like, be with, be with?" Edgar was very, very curious about this subject and he felt like he had just been very honest with Norm so Norm might feel like he owed him one.

Norm laughed and Edgar felt the rumble from his chest. It was a wonderful, safe feeling and he cuddled slightly against his brother. Norm replied with all honesty,"It's awesome, especially when you really like her. I love showing Amanda how much I love her."

"That's not an answer!" Edgar was annoyed.

"Well, that's all you get for now. Just be a kid for awhile and don't worry about that stuff. When the time comes, come talk to me first. I'll tell you everything you need to know, promise. I might even share a few secrets with you," Norm smiled at some special private thoughts in his head.

"Like what?" Edgar was being persistent with this.

"In time, kid, all in good time. Come on, I'm tired. Ask me more questions tomorrow." Norm was getting very sleepy.

"Ok," Edgar didn't release his hold. He did think for a second, _hey, I didn't get punched in the stomach so I'm not letting go now. _

"You're not gonna let me up, are you?" Norm was giving in to the sleep that was quickly overtaking him.

"No," was the simple reply, followed up softly with, "I love you."

Norm lifted his hand and started stroking his brother's hair. It was soft and soothing and he remembered how much he missed the way his mother would do the same thing to him. After the magic "cup of water" had been consumed, of course. The cup of water she would make the effort to get from the kitchen, filled with ice, no matter how tired she was and how long her day had been. The ice shifted in the glass next to them, melting into the summer night and he heard the clinking noise break the silence of the room. Signs are funny things, they just creep up on you when you least expect them.

_Be open_. "I love you, Ed," Norm whispered as he drifted off to sleep, Edgar only minutes behind him.

Side bar conversation between little brothers complete. Assurance. One very difficult conversation to go. Dad.


	11. A New Life

**Thanks to all who have read this story and the wonderful reviews. It's nice to know that I have entertained a few people out there in the world. **

* * *

Sunday morning dawned bright and cheerful. The summer heat had temporarily broken and the day had a spring-like quality. The birds were singing and the air smelled fresh and new. It was a special day. And something special was going to happen on this day, something different for each brother, a single moment in time that each of them would remember for the rest of their lives.

It was just past sunrise when Sig stirred in his bed. He never slept past the rise of the sun and today was no different. It must have had something to do with being born a fisherman. He opened his eyes and stared out his window at the sunlight catching the dew rising off the grass. He laid there for a minute, enjoying the sights and sounds of what looked to be a beautiful day.

The sweet moment was fleeting when the memory of the previous night's events came rushing back to him. _Edgar. Oh God, my baby brother. Would he hate me? He said he wouldn't but…now that it was over, maybe he would. Was it the right thing to do? His reaction was so overwhelming, the grief so intense that it was frightening. Hadn't expected that. I expected something but nothing like that. Maybe because he was so young and alone and had held it in for so long. I don't know. I'm glad I was with him, though. But it should have been dad. The whole thing should have been dad. It was dad's place, all of it, and I don't feel right about it. How am I going to tell my father? I have too. Can't hide it. Not the right example to set. Deal with whatever consequences come. It's very possible that when dad finds out what happened, he'll come home anyway and decide I am unfit to be around this family. Maybe he'll kick me out of the house. He could. I'm 18 and not his responsibility anymore. I can't control what happens but I'm not going to hide the truth from him. I take the outcome how ever my father sees fit. That kid down the hallway faced his consequences better than anyone I know. He was brave, more than brave and I just have to be too_.

Sig sighed into his pillow. _Well, we'll enjoy this beautiful day, at least, before I am banished from the family and our home_. Sig got up and made his bed. He dressed in jeans and one of his favorite t-shirts, put on his socks and shoes and headed to the bathroom. On the way there, he looked through the open door of his littlest brother's bedroom. Edgar was alone in his bed, curled up on his side, still sound asleep. He looked peaceful and Sig sent up a silent prayer that he won't have any hard feelings towards him. _I tried, kid, I tried my best to show you how much we love you and need you. I hope you know that_.

Sig continued on to the bathroom where he combed his tangled blond hair and brushed his teeth. He filled the sink with warm water and shaved the stubble off his face. He dried his face and hands off with the nearby towel and left the bathroom. He grabbed the dirty laundry from the hamper and took it downstairs with him.

When he got downstairs, he heard all sorts of noises coming from the garage. It sounded like a war was going on in there. Maybe there was a war. The war between the motor bike and Norman. Sig smiled. _He'll be at it all day, stubborn Norwegian, till he gets it as good as new. Knowing Norman like I do, it would end up being better than new_. _Norman could work on his projects all day and forget to eat, sleep and breath_. Sig dropped the laundry off in the washer and started the machine. He made his way into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee.

Sig loved coffee. Norm was more of a hot tea kind of guy, like mom. But Sig couldn't live without the jolt of morning caffeine that several cups of the black liquid from heaven provided. He even loved the smell and the sound of it dripping slowly into the glass pot, like it was teasing him or something.

Once the pot started to make hissing sounds, Sig wandered into the garage. He hoped this brother, too, would also not have hard feelings towards him. Maybe Norman had some questions for him, tough questions and Sig was reminded of PROMISE #3. Sig went into the garage to find the place turned upside down, tools everywhere, parts everywhere, oil and grease and dirt everywhere. Sig hardly even recognized the motor bike, laying on the concrete floor looking like a shell of its former self.

Norm had the garage door open, his truck parked proudly in front of it. Sig wondered if Norm just wanted to have the opportunity to occasionally glance at it while he worked and marvel at his baby. Sig laughed at that thought. He most likely left the garage door up for the fresh air. It was such a beautiful day.

Norman was outside, sitting on the asphalt of the driveway. Sig saw him, walked over and sat next to him. He couldn't help but enjoy the sunshine on his face for a minute and he leaned back on his elbows. Then he looked over at his younger brother and saw that Norm was working intensely on some kind of part that use to live inside the motor bike but was now being molested and abused by a wrench and a pair of pliers.

"What the hell is that?" Sig asked.

"You would know if you ever lowered yourself to get your hands dirty," Norman replied without stopping or looking up.

"Future crab boat captains don't have to do the manual labor, Norm. We hired deckhands and engineers for that kind of stuff," Sig explained his thinking. In reality, he knew he just didn't have the natural ability Norman had. He had a feeling Edgar had this talent as well, maybe someday even surpassing his older brother in this department.

"Ha, ha. Better find out how to do these things yourself or you'll never know you hired the right guy for the job until you're stuck out there in the middle of the Bering Sea with no one to help you," Norm said smartly.

"That's why I'm gonna hire you," Sig said with a sly smile.

"Can't hire me if I own the boat with you, asshole. Doesn't matter anyway. That life is not for me. Amanda would be crushed if I was away all the time," Norm continued working on his project but managed to look at his brother out of the corner of his eye. He held his breath for a second.

Sig pondered this new information for a minute. He always assumed him and Norm would be in this together, they would fish together and have their own boat together. He never thought for a second that maybe that was not what Norman wanted too. He understood, though. It was a very difficult life and it wasn't for everyone. _Maybe Edgar…God help me_.

"Well then, you better start applying to colleges this fall cause you're not good looking enough to be a TV actor or a model and you can't sing for shit," Sig said jokingly but also with a tinge of acceptance.

Norm didn't let him see it but he was secretly very grateful for his brother's reaction. He knew he'd have to tell Sig at some point that Sig's dream of the three of them sailing off into the sunset of the Red King Crab fishing grounds was not going to come true. Norman also hoped that Edgar wouldn't go down that road either but he had a feeling he would. There was just too much excitement out there and he knew his little brother would get hooked for life like a fish on a line.

"I've already started looking at colleges. I told dad before he left," Norm explained softly. "As for my looks, I don't think I'm cut out for television anyway. The TV audience wouldn't be able to handle my awesomeness."

"Good…let me know if you need a reference on your college applications," Sig went on mischievously, "I could say 'crazy enough to try and stop a speeding bike in order to foolishly try and save his brother's life.' In other words, dedicated, trustworthy and loyal to fault."

Norman stopped his abuse of the bike part and finally looked over at his brother. He gave him a hard look. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat," he said seriously and Sig knew he meant it. Norman was rarely serious.

"He was pretty broken up about it," Sig added, referring to their youngest brother.

Norm looked down and started working again. "I know, he told me."

"When?" Sig asked, not understanding. Edgar was still sleeping.

"Last night, after I came home. I couldn't sleep so I was working on the bike for awhile. Must have woke him up cause I went in to check on him and he was awake," Norm explained causally.

_What were you checking on him for, that he was still breathing? Can't blame you. Shit, I would have checked on him myself a million times, too, if I wasn't so tired_, Sig thought to himself. _At least someone was checking on him. _

"How was he?" Sig tried not to sound concerned but it came out sounding extremely over concerned anyway.

Norm smiled to himself. _You love him, don't think you can hide it from me for a second_. Norm sighed, "He was ok. He told me." Norm left it at that.

Sig looked out into the street and stared off into nothing.

Norm ignored the mental struggle going on next to him.

Sig started wringing his hands in front of him.

Norm waited for the question. He was actually very much looking forward to the question that he knew was coming. He would have waited all day for it. _I'm not going to let you beat yourself up about this, bro so just ask me. _

Finally, Sig cleared his throat. Hesitantly, he asked, "What did he tell you?" but continued to look off in the distance.

"That you love him. That I love him. That he is a part of this family and we're not going to let him fall. That he has the best big brothers in the world, both of us, and that he understood why you did what you did," Norm said simply and truthfully.

Sig took a breath. "Is he…mad…at me?" _God, why do I sound like a little kid_.

"I don't think so," Norm answered honestly.

_Maybe not last night, but who knows today_. Finally, Sig had to ask the question most on his mind, "Was he…in pain?"

It literally hurt Norm just to hear the pain in Sig's own voice. He wanted to lie, very much, but he liked the honesty part of this new life his brothers seemed to have decided on without him and it would have been a shame to start now. "He was…uncomfortable, I think," Norm selected the word carefully. Sig winced at the word anyway. Norm added quickly, "I stayed with him, almost all night. He wasn't alone."

For whatever reason, Sig felt a surge of love for this brother sitting next to him. Sig turned his cobalt blue eyes to his brother and said in a broken whisper. "I feel awful, Norman. Worse than I've ever felt in my life."

Sig tried to get up to leave but Norm pulled him back down. Norm turned and looked closely at the guilt in his brother's eyes. He said carefully, "Listen to me. You did the right thing. As a matter of fact, you did all the right things. Stop thinking about it. It's over."

Sig listened to his brother's words and knew they were the words he was hoping to hear, just not from him but from someone else. He doubted he would be lucky enough to hear those words later this evening from that someone that would be on the other end of the phone line. Still, it helped a little to hear them from Norm anyway.

"We have to change things around here," Sig said with finality.

"I know," Norm said simply and went on working.

"Are you off from work today?" Sig asked.

"Yep," was the reply.

"Me, too. You need to stay home today," Sig sounded like he had some kind of plan.

"Hey, I came home on time last night. Why am I grounded?" Norm asked with a half smile.

"Keep up the attitude and you might just find yourself grounded," Sig said with a smile of his own.

_Oh, someone's drunk with power already. Can't wait to see you as a captain someday._ Norman laughed out loud. "You have the reigns this summer, I'm not questioning your authority. No way. No, seriously, I was going to stay home anyway. There's no place like it, right?"

"Roger, that. I'm making pancakes for breakfast. How many do you want?" Sig asked.

Norman sat in absolute shock. Sig made the best pancakes in the world, better than IHOP or mom, like THE BEST, off the chart pancakes. But he hated making them because he made such a mess in the kitchen that he dreaded cleaning it up. When mom made pancakes, she never got a single drop of syrup on the counter. When Sig made pancakes, there was batter hanging from the ceiling and it looked like a flour mill exploded in the kitchen. The mess must have been part of the reason they were so damn good.

Now Norman knew his older brother was still feeling guilty because he would never volunteer to make pancakes otherwise. _Shit, little brother should take a spanking more often if it means I'm gonna get pancakes the next day. Just kidding.._

"I'll eat as many as you make, dude. Can't get enough of your pancakes!" Norm could already taste them.

Sig laughed and gave his brother a shove. He got up and went back into the house, walking past the sad remnants of the motor bike on his way to the kitchen.

* * *

Edgar woke to the sounds of pots and pans being banged around in the kitchen. He laid there and listened to all the racket and wondered what the hell was going on down there. It didn't matter, though, that the noise woke him up because it meant that someone was home and he wouldn't have to go downstairs to an empty house and eat breakfast alone. He couldn't count the times he had eaten breakfast by himself in the last few months. _Breakfast – it sounds so good right now_.

He went to roll over on his back and get out of bed when the motion cause a flood of memories to came rushing back to him. He flinched from the tender reminder but ignored it, getting out of the bed as fast as he could. He looked at his jeans hanging over his desk chair and thought, _umm, maybe not today_. He grabbed a pair of soft summer sweat pants and t-shirt (one of Sig's hand-me-downs) out of his dresser and dressed quietly. Then he went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and hair and washed his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. _That looks more like me_. He no longer had black circles under his eyes and his complexion had come back to normal. He looked and felt better than he had in a long time.

Edgar returned to his room and made his bed. He put away his laundry from the night before and made sure everything in his room was in order. When he went to leave, he noticed the empty drinking glass on the nightstand by his bed. As he walked over and pick it up to take it downstairs, he noticed something else left on his nightstand. The class ring that belonged to his oldest brother was still laying there, now glistening in the sunlight. Edgar picked it up and stared at it in his hand. For just a moment, he was tempted to put it on his own finger, even though it wouldn't fit, just to see what it would feel like. He could imagine the weight of it, the smooth, cold gold against his skin and the feeling of pride that came with it. Quickly, he forced the temptation away. _No!_ It wasn't his ring, it was his brother's and he had no right to wear it, not even for a minute. Edgar would have considered that disrespectful towards its owner.

With a sigh, he wrapped his hand around the ring, grabbed the empty glass and headed downstairs. Halfway down the steps, the smell coming from the kitchen stopped him in his tracks. _Pancakes_. Someone was making pancakes. Delicious, melt-in-your-mouth pancakes. The smell was unmistakable. Just to make sure, Edgar continued all the way down the steps and peeked around the corner, through the living room and into the kitchen. Sig was standing at the stove, his back towards the steps, making his world famous pancakes, the kitchen in complete disarray. Edgar also knew how much Sig hated making pancakes. This could only mean one thing.

Edgar turned back from his look and stood at the bottom of the steps, still as the ring in his hand. _Sig, you don't have to feel bad. Please don't feel bad about it. I'm ok. Better than ok. _

For the first time since he woke up this morning, Edgar started to worry about how things would be between him and his oldest brother. He felt like the two of them shared more with each other in one night than they ever had over the course of Edgar's short life. A LOT of deep, painful things had come out, bad memories and scary emotions for both of them. Edgar didn't know how his brother was going to see him anymore. He wasn't worried that Sig would somehow think less of him but concerned that maybe all those bad things would be constantly reminded every time Sig saw him. Edgar didn't know how to approach his oldest brother and he sure as hell didn't know what to say. _What can you say after you leave all your emotions on the floor?_

Edgar felt the ring in his hand slide around slightly from the sweat of his palm. _Well, I have to give it back to him sometime, right? _As he took a breath of courage, Edgar turned the corner and headed into the kitchen. He walked past the disaster his brother was making of the once clean kitchen, ignoring the flour on the walls and the four dirty mixing bowls sitting on the counter. Cautiously but with purpose, Edgar approached his brother, who had his back to him and hadn't heard or saw him coming because he was so focused on the two frying pans blazing away on the stovetop.

Edgar stood next to his brother, close enough to reach him but far enough away that there was quite a lot of space between them and placed the empty drinking glass in the sink. Wordlessly, Edgar held his hand out in front of his brother and opened his palm, revealing the ring.

Sig caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. He looked down at his ring that he forgot to take with him last night and up to his little brother's profile. Edgar kept his eyes lowered and his head down. _He doesn't look mad, _Sig thought_, actually he looks kind of sad. _

Sig put the spatula in his hand down, took the ring out of his brother's hand and placed it next to the spatula on the counter. Edgar closed his hand and made a motion to just walk away. Within an instant, Sig reached out and grabbed Edgar's arm and pulled him into a giant bear hug, wrapping both arms around him tightly and lifting him slightly off his feet. Edgar didn't hesitate and returned the embrace, hanging on to his brother's neck with both arms. This hug was not about to get brushed off or pulled away from, not a chance, not ever.

Sig squeezed his youngest brother against him. "I love you so much," he whispered in his brother's ear, nuzzling his nose against his brother's temple.

Edgar tightened his hold. "I won't ever forget it. I love you, too," he whispered back into his brother's shoulder.

Just then, Norm walked in from the garage and froze in the doorway to the kitchen. He didn't move a muscle or make a sound. His brothers hadn't heard him come in and if they did, they didn't seem to care. Norm just watched the two of them hugging each other. He couldn't remember ever seeing them hug each other before. He guessed he did at some points over the years, birthdays, holidays and such, but it was never a big deal, just a slight embrace, nothing. This hug, on the other hand, was something else. This hug had some much love coming from it that Norm actually felt it himself from across the kitchen. He closed his eyes, committing the scene to memory.

That was the moment Norman would never forget. Despite his brothers' constant arguments and fights over stupid things, like how pots were going to be stacked or which direction to fish in or who was going to steer the boat, he knew he would never have to worry about his family falling apart ever again. His brothers would always find a way to work out their problems, always by remembering that no matter how much they hurt each other, they loved each other a million times more.

Sig put his little brother back down on the ground but didn't release the embrace. After a few moments, Sig whispered the question most on his mind. "Are you…uncomfortable?" deciding to go with Norman's choice of wording and hoping Edgar would catch his meaning.

Edgar caught the meaning of the question right off the bat but was hesitant to answer it. He really didn't want to make Sig feel bad in any way but that particular area was still rather…uncomfortable.

Sig waited for the answer and finally gave his brother a hard squeeze. "Be honest," was the simple command.

Sig felt his brother nodded his head slightly against his chest. _Of course he's hurting, stupid. What did you expect? I'm gonna feel guilty about this for the rest of my life, I know it_. Sig took a deep sigh and looked over at the ring he had just put down on the counter. He released his brother slowly but reached down and grabbed his right hand.

Sig picked up his class ring with his other hand and placed the ring on his brother's index finger. He said softly, "Here, wear this for awhile. Give it back to me when you feel completely…comfortable again. It will save me from asking you a hundred times today if you are feeling better. Now I'll know when things are fine and maybe you'll remember I'm not totally a bad guy."

Edgar looked down at the ring on his finger and couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was an unreal moment. The coveted ring was on his finger with total permission from the owner. It meant a lot to Edgar that his big brother would trust him enough to let him wear it, even for a little while. Then his brother's words registered in his brain and he looked up into Sig's face and quickly explained, "I don't think you're a bad guy at all. You're the best brother a guy could hope for." Sig responded with a big smile and wanted to say, _You wear it anyway_ but didn't get a chance.

Norm had watched this whole exchange, thinking it was _very sweet and are these two really MY brothers_, right up until the _best brother I could ask for_ comment came out. Now, he was going to have to break it up because apparently they forgot about him.

"Oh, really. Best brother, huh? Nice to know I'm not appreciated around here," Norm started in like he just walked in the kitchen a second ago.

Edgar looked up at Sig and rolled his eyes. "Someone's jealous."

"Can't have that," Sig rolled his eyes back, leaned over and whispered in Edgar's ear, "Maybe I should give him a hug, too. What you think?"

Edgar only laughed and Sig ruffled his hair before going back to cooking.

"Where are the freaking pancakes anyway? Should be done by now. I'm starving," Norm headed to the refrigerator and started taking out the butter, milk and orange juice and placing them on the table. He then went over to wash his hands, dry them off and began taking plates and glasses out of the cabinets. He also pushed his big brother out of the way so that he could turn on the tea kettle. Sig pushed him back pretty hard but Norm ignored it.

Sig turned quickly back to the pancakes before they burnt. He was flipping and dropping them off onto a big stack of pancakes that were already cooked. He grabbed the big plate and turned, walking them over to the kitchen table. "Here, Norm. Happy now?" Sig went back to finishing up with the last of the batter.

"Oh God, yes. Pancakes from the great pancake maker himself." Norm practically ran to get the maple syrup out of the pantry closet. While he was in there, he found a jar of chocolate syrup and grabbed them both, placing them next to the milk.

Edgar washed out the used drinking glass and put it on the drying rack. Then he went to the kitchen drawer and pulled out the silverware from its divider. He deposited the flatware on to the kitchen table and grabbed a plate. He helped himself to four large pancakes, stacking them on the plate and drizzling a generous amount of maple syrup on top. He poured himself a glass of cool orange juice and then froze.

The kitchen table's chairs were made of the same wood as the table itself and there were no cushions covering the seat. The chair itself looked quite foreboding at this moment and Edgar decided he had the new found ability to eat pancakes standing up. He had no desire to make his uncomfortable situation any more uncomfortable. He grabbed a fork, his plate and glass and moved over to the counter, which was much higher and easier to eat off of. He hoped his brothers wouldn't notice or make fun of him.

As he stood with his back to them, Edgar heard the tea kettle go off and Sig turned off the stove, placing the hot frying pans in the sink. He heard Sig pour himself a cup of coffee, adding chocolate syrup into it and Norman stirring his tea. A few minutes later, he saw both of his brothers come up along either side of him, Sig on his left, Norm on his right. They both had their plates, pancakes, mugs and silverware all in their hands. They put their stuff down in front of them on the counter and started buttering and cutting up their pancakes, pouring syrup of different varieties on them. Then they just started eating like this was how all of them always ate their pancakes.

Not only did his brothers refrain from teasing him, they had decided to try and make him feel better about his situation. Edgar wondered _pancakes are strange things to eat standing up. They aren't like hot dogs or French fries or apples. Pancakes are something you eat sitting down_. But there they stood, all three of them, eating their pancakes off the counter, not saying a word about it. Their eating arrangement would have looked utterly ridiculous to anyone else if they had walked in on them at that very moment. Edgar closed his eyes, committing that very moment to memory.

After everything he had been through in the last few days, that was the moment Edgar would never forget. It was a silent bond from his brothers that _we are in this together. You can't sit down and eat, we don't sit down and eat. You suffer, we suffer right along with you – it's called F.A.M.I.L.Y. and we're always gonna be there_. Edgar didn't think it was possible to love his brothers any more than he loved them at that moment.

They continued to eat in silence, other than the noises of pure pleasure coming from Norman, who was smacking his lips and gobbling the stack of six pancakes off his plate. It was like he was having a pancake orgasm. Finally, he spoke, "You make the best pancakes on the planet, Sig," he said with mouth full of pancakes.

"Thank you, little brother. Now, which one of you is going to help me clean up this mess?" Sig asked, sipping his third cup of coffee.

"Oh, no. You know the rule. You make the mess, you clean it up," Norm mumbled with another mouth full of pancakes, pointing his fork in Sig's direction.

Sig grumbled a few choice curse words, knowing his brother was correct and hating the reminder. That was the rule. Edgar nudged him gently. "I'll help since I appreciate the effort," Edgar emphasized the **I** in the statement while shooting Norm a dirty look.

In the end, the three of them cleaned the kitchen, righting the place back into order in record time. As Norm was washing the pans and Edgar was drying, Sig moved the wash along and slipped out of the kitchen, into the garage. He came back a few minutes later with a soccer ball in his hand and waited for his brothers to get done. Sig leaned against the back door, the ball under his arm and against his side. Edgar looked over at him and thought he looked younger somehow. It was a lot better seeing his oldest brother looking like he did now than he did last night when Sig seemed like he had the world on his shoulders.

"Let's go," was the simple command from the oldest brother, now bouncing the soccer ball off his knee with ease. Like a dog getting shown his leash, Edgar couldn't get out the door fast enough and almost ran Sig over in the process. Norm, on the other hand, tried to head back into the garage but was overpowered by his oldest brother who practically dragged him out into the backyard.

They played outside for over an hour. Sig still had all his skills and initially refused to let his brothers win. The two younger brothers finally teamed up against him and the cigarette smoking was already starting to take its toll on his lungs so Sig conceded with grace. Edgar was thrilled by this turn of events. After awhile, Norm couldn't take it anymore and drifted back to the garage. The bike was calling for him.

Sig and Edgar stayed outside, kicking the ball around just for fun. When they got tired of that, Edgar mowed the grass and Sig worked in the flower bed. His mother had planted many of these flowers last summer before she died. The flower beds had been badly neglected this spring but somehow the flowers managed to grow anyway. Sig weeded and cut off the dead bulbs. He marveled at the resiliency growing around him and he gave his best effort to make the beds look as they should, the way their mother liked them.

Edgar finished mowing and put the lawnmower back into the garage. He saw that Norm had made amazing progress on the bike already and it was starting to look like its former self. Norm stood back to take a look at his work and see what else needed to be done when he felt arms going around him from behind and a cheek and nose getting pressed into the middle of his back. He smiled and grabbed the arms that were now around his stomach, pulling them closer. He just closed his eyes, enjoyed the silent appreciation of his work and thanked whatever it was that saved his little brother last night.

After a minute, he turned his head slightly to the side and sighed, "We have to go grocery shopping today. I hate shopping with Sig. He's such a wreck when he has to wait in line."

"We'll make it fun somehow," Edgar replied and left the garage to go tell his oldest brother they were about to embark on one of his least favorite activities.

* * *

While Norm ran upstairs to grab a shower, Sig and Edgar washed all the dirt and grass from their hands in the kitchen sink. Sadly, this turned into a mini water fight between the two of them and they both ended up looking like they got a shower, too. They only stopped when Norm screamed from the shower, asking who the hell was playing with the water.

When Norm was ready, Sig got his wallet and informed their middle brother that they would be taking Sig's car to the store. Norm almost had an apoplectic fit but Sig whispered something in his ear when Edgar wasn't looking that referred to the "uncomfortable" situation and someone being able to lay down in the back seat of Sig's car, which the truck did not have.

As the three of them piled into Sig's brand new neon blue Trans Am, (a graduation gift from/to himself after working a part time job for four years), Norman grumbled about Sig not having a real man's vehicle and he hoped his friends didn't see him riding in this "preppy" car. Sig turned on the radio to a pop music station but Norm was at the end of his rope already and changed the radio to the country music channel, muttering something about at least being able to listen to real music while in the preppy car. Sig let it go.

Sig glanced in the rear view mirror and notice that Edgar had fallen asleep in the back seat, curled up on his side. The kid had been though so much in the past few days, he'd probably sleep a lot for awhile.

When they got to the store, the three of them decided to have pot roast for dinner and they divided up the list so they could get out of there faster. They also got the needed items for the week. When everything was acquired, they met at the front of the store. Sig then walked over to the flower section of the market, Norman and Edgar in his wake, wondering what they were going there for. When they got to that section, they watched their oldest brother carefully select three white roses out of a bucket full of cut roses of every possible color. Now, Norm knew exactly what they were doing in the floral section of the market.

"I don't want to go there," Norm stated flatly, his meaning unmistakable.

"Then you can stay in the car," Sig responded just as flat and asked the girl behind the counter to wrap the roses in paper.

After Sig took the roses back, the three of them drifted back to the long check out line. While standing in line, Sig noticed the shelves of books and magazines off to the side. He nudged his youngest brother to get his attention. When he got it, he tilled his head towards the shelves. "Go get a book, maybe two or three," he demanded gently.

Edgar looked back at his oldest brother like someone had just sentenced him to the gas chamber. "Ah, I'm not much of a reader, Sig. You know," Edgar tried to plead his case along with not trying to argue.

"You're going to be a reader this summer so go pick out what you like or I will pick for you," Sig's voice held that tinge of authority that was unmistakable and Edgar knew there would be no arguing about it. He walked over to the shelves like a death row inmate on his final walk and picked a few things that might interest him. One of which was a copy of S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders, which seemed to be the most appealing. Edgar returned with the books in his hand and placed them in the cart.

Norm was now avoiding his oldest brother like the plague because he was pissed they were making a previously unannounced pit stop on the way home. He felt like he had been tricked, trapped and he was getting more livid by the minute. He especially wasn't in the mood for fun and games when Sig started getting antsy in line, shifting his feet back and forth and sighing loudly and Edgar walking up behind him and, with his finger, wrote **H** and **I **followed by a **!**on his biggest brother's back. Norm's two brothers broke out in hysterical laughter, leaning on each other and Sig ruffling Edgar's shaggy hair. Norm thought the two of them had gone nuts and ignored them.

After getting out of the store and putting the groceries in the trunk, the roses placed on the dashboard of the car, the three of them headed home, except for one pit stop...to the cemetery.


	12. Dad

As the three of them drove to the cemetery, Norm was unusually quiet. He hadn't said a word and continued to stare out the passenger side window. He purposefully avoided looking at the three white roses laying in front of him on the dashboard. Sig glanced over to his younger brother occasionally but Norman was refusing to make eye contact. Sig also glanced in the backseat to find his youngest brother laying on his stomach trying to read his new book. Sig noticed that the kid kept re-reading the same four pages.

It took Edgar several tries but he finally got what he was reading and was hooked instantly. It was a great story and worth the extra time to try and understand it. Edgar was so focused on his new book that he was surprised that Sig had parked the car and shut the engine off. Edgar looked up and found them parked at the bottom of the hill where his mother was buried. He knew they were coming here from the careful selection of roses but he didn't realize how quickly they got there since he was so engrossed in another world, one full of greasers and Socs.

The three of them sat in the car for a minute, not saying anything. The last time they were all here together was the day of the funeral. Sig had come a few times on his own, always finding flowers on his mother's grave. Dad had come almost everyday since she died, always bringing flowers. The flowers themselves were of different varieties like roses, carnations or lilies but the color was always the same – white. As far as Sig knew, Norman had never come to her grave and no one had bothered to bring Edgar.

Finally, Sig took the roses off the dashboard and unwrapped the paper surrounding them, discarding it in the center console. He handed the first rose to Edgar in the back seat. Edgar gave him a giant smile which faded when he looked over to Norman. Edgar then gave Sig a nod of encouragement and got out of the car, waiting at the bottom of the hill for his brothers.

Sig offered the second rose to Norman but Norm refused to acknowledge it or respond in anyway, just continuing to stare out the window. Sig took the rose back and put it with his own.

"Norman…" Sig began softly but was cut off.

"Maybe another day, Sig," Norm said in a hoarse voice, still looking away from his brother and the hill.

Sig leaned over and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'll let her know the second rose is from you," he whispered softly and gave his brother's shoulder a slight squeeze. He felt Norm tremble a little but then just nod and shut down. Sig wasn't going to push and just got out of the car, giving Norman one last glance before walking over to Edgar, carrying two roses in his hand.

When Sig got to him, Edgar saw both roses and gave Sig a sad look. "I guess he's going to stay in the car after all."

"He's not ready," was the only explanation Sig could give.

The two of them started walking up the grassy hill covered in tombstones. Edgar couldn't help but turn around and look back at the car. He pondered things for a moment and then came out with the following statement, "Maybe Norman needs a spanking, too?"

Sig laughed automatically but then stopped his littlest brother as they were halfway up the hill. Sig turned Edgar around so he was looking right at him. Edgar was almost face to face with him since he had gotten ahead of Sig on their climb.

"Hey," Sig said quietly, "I just want to make things clear to you. I did NOT punish you with the intention of all that stuff coming out about mom. From you or me. I mean, I knew you had to get some stuff off your chest before you would stop acting like a suicidal manic but I had no idea you were going to….I don't know…."

"…completely breakdown?" Edgar finished his statement. "Me neither. It was pretty scary. I just totally lost it. I'm not sure why that happened. Something about when you went to leave without a word, I just felt like I was gonna die if another person I loved left me. It wasn't the spanking that got me so upset, I think it was the thought that I would have to deal with another thing all alone. Turns out, I was very wrong," Edgar finished with a shrug of his shoulders and that movie star smile of his.

Sig smiled back and then pulled his brother into him for the second hug of the day, careful not to break the roses in their hands. He whispered down in Edgar's ear, "Yes, very wrong, because you don't have to deal with things alone anymore. I didn't want to leave but I didn't know if you were mad at me. Sorry if I scared you. I'll never leave you, even if I am a thousand miles away and in the middle of nowhere with nothing but crab to keep my company."

"If you're lucky, that is," Edgar punched him playfully.

"Oh, I know how to find the crab, don't worry, little brother," Sig said ominously, releasing his hold and walking up the hill, Edgar chasing him and asking him repeatedly how to find the elusive crab. Sig ignored him and playfully walked away from his brother.

Before they knew it, they were both standing in front of their mother's grave. Both of them got quiet and stopped their playful teasing. They stood there silently and stared at the pink marble headstone in the shape of a heart. One on side of the heart was their mother's name along with the years of her birth and death.

Sig noted the year of death was the same year engraved into the side of his high school class ring, the one which his youngest brother was currently wearing. His eyes drifted over to the other side of the marble heart that had his father's name along with his year of birth and a dash with a blank space next to it. He quickly looked away from that side of the stone because the thought of that side being completed was like a knife in his heart. He noticed that there were dead flowers in front of his mother's name and knew his father had placed them there six days ago before he left for his trip. Sig decided to leave them, a silent honor to the woman who spent countless hours over many years waiting for her husband to come back home, praying each time that he would come back home.

Sig turned to Edgar and saw he had a few tears running down his cheeks. He didn't say anything but handed the second rose in his hand to Edgar for safe keeping. Edgar took it and waited. Then Sig knelt down, placing his rose against his mother's name and saying a silent prayer for her guidance and constant love and told her how much he missed her. He kept it short because he didn't want to make his youngest brother wait too long. When he stood and backed up, he bumped into someone that was much stockier and slightly taller that Edgar. He froze, not wanting to move or say a word.

Sig watched their middle brother walk around him, wordlessly take the second rose out of Edgar's hand and kneel at his mother's gave. Norm placed his rose next to Sig's and run his hand along the engraving of her name. Sig and Edgar turned and looked at each other in semi-shock but stayed silent. Norm didn't stay but a few seconds and then stood back up next to his oldest brother. Sig wanted to hold his hand or put his arm around Norm's shoulder but he didn't know how Norm would react to either so he just drifted closer to him.

Both of them watched in silence as Edgar knelt in front of the stone and placed the third and final white rose next to the others. The three roses looked beautiful against the pink marble. Edgar silently shared with his mom that he was ok, he had brothers, the real kind, looking out for him and that he wasn't alone anymore. He also told her how much he missed her and that he loved her always. Finally, he brushed a few tears off his cheek and stood, walking over to his older brothers to stand next to them.

The three of them waited a few minutes and then walked quietly back to the car together. When they got to the car, Sig was the first one to speak.

Sig turned to Norm and ask, "You want to drive?" holding up the keys and dangling them in the air.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me? This sorry excuse for a vehicle. Get a God damn truck like a real man and then we'll talk," Norm responded passionately.

Sig got in the driver's seat, mumbling something like, "Don't say I never offered."

"No one has ever offered me a steaming pile of shit but I'd feel the same about either offer," Norm explained as he got in on the other side.

Sig couldn't help but notice that Edgar was sitting in the backseat already, reading and ignoring both of them. He shifted around a little bit on the ride home but stayed seated. Sig took it as a good sign.

* * *

When they got back home, they unpacked the groceries and Edgar started dinner. It had already been decided that he would be making dinner, with guidance from his oldest brother. Norm returned to war in the garage, deciding that he was now on the winning side. Sig made a quick lunch for all three of them while watching over Edgar peeling potatoes and carrots, along with browning the roast. Edgar ate his sandwich while getting everything for dinner in a giant pot that would go into the oven for several hours. Sig took a sandwich out to Norman who grumbled a thank you and gobbled down the offering. When Sig came back into the kitchen, the pot roast was in the oven but Edgar was gone.

Sig noticed the laundry had been folded and taken upstairs. Sig decided to clean around the house a little but realized it didn't really need it. No one was ever home so there wasn't much to get messed up. He did run the vacuum and wash the windows in the front door but that was about it. Sig then made another pot of coffee and ate lunch by himself. While he was sitting in the kitchen reading the paper and eating, he heard a sound that he had not heard for a very long time. The sound was coming from upstairs.

It was music coming from a guitar. Sig couldn't make out the song but it was something slow, like a love song. He closed his eyes and just listened for the longest time. Edgar had talent on this particular instrument but it was evident that he had not played in a long time. Sig didn't care. He thought it was the great thing he'd ever heard. Norman even wandered into the kitchen and listened for awhile.

"Never thought I would miss that," Norm said before going back to the garage.

"Wait," Sig commanded.

Norm stopped and looked at his brother.

Sig turned and asked Norman, "What do you think about taking Edgar to work with you tomorrow? Do you think the hardware store would be bothered by him being there?"

Norm thought about and then shrugged. "I can find things for him to do that will keep him out of trouble. Kid could stand to learn some things. I don't think the boss would mind, he's never there anyway."

"Good, cause I don't want to leave him in the house by himself all summer and he's too young to get a job," Sig said, explaining his concerns.

"Well, now he's free labor," Norm said as he went back to his project.

* * *

Evening approached and the pot roast had radiated a lovely smell throughout the house. The two younger brothers came from their respective places, Norm from the garage, Edgar from his room and they prepared to have dinner. Norm washed up in the sink and Edgar readied the table, pulling the pot roast from the oven. Sig was no where to be found.

Finally, the back door opened, revealing their oldest brother. He reeked of cigarette smoke and Norman quickly pointed it out.

"How many cigarettes did you have out there?" Norm asked, a disgusted look on his face.

"Too many," was the only answer.

"What's wrong?" Edgar asked quietly, thinking he already knew the answer.

"Nothing, kid. Don't worry about it," Sig replied, sitting down at the kitchen table to have dinner. Sig stopped himself and looked up at his littlest brother. Edgar also sat down, across from his brother, and started eating dinner. Wordlessly and with some regret, he slipped the class ring that had been on his finger most of the day and slid it across the table to his oldest brother. Sig took it with a smile and placed it back in its rightful place.

Norm sat as well and the three of them enjoyed a blissful meal. When they had almost finished eating, Norm asked the question most on everyone's mind. He turned towards his oldest brother and asked point blank, "So…what are you going to say when dad calls?"

Sig looked down at the table and answered honestly, "The truth."

"All of it?" Norm pressed.

"Yes, all of it," Sig replied, glancing over at Edgar who sat froze in place, his last forkful of food in midair.

Sig watched his youngest brother start to shake slightly and he watched the tears form in his eyes. Sig explained softly and as best he could, "Edgar, I'm not going to punish you for lying and then turn around the next day and lie to our father. Please don't worry…"

Edgar quickly pushed himself away from the table and ran out the back door, leaving it open so that his two brothers could see him sitting on the porch steps, arms folded in front of him, head buried in the nook of his elbow. They could see he was crying from the way his shoulders were heaving.

Norm stood up and announced to Sig, "I'll get the dishes, you get the kid."

Sig sighed and walked out onto the porch. He sat down next to his little brother and rubbed his back gently. He tried to explain, "I'm going to tell him the truth but you are not getting in trouble for the same thing twice, I promise. It's the only time I would stand against our father if he tried to do something like that, which I know he won't, so please don't worry about it. I won't let him spank you again, I promise."

"I'm not worried about that, even if he did," Edgar sobbed, "It's just...he's going to be so...disappointed in me, Sig"

Sig didn't lie, "Yes, for a little while, but he'll get over it. He loves you. He's just not good at saying it. Stop worrying, believe me, I am much more worried about myself at this point."

Edgar finally looked over at his brother and saw the fear in his eyes.

Sig continued, "I'm telling dad everything and I don't know how he is going to react. When he put me in charge, I don't think it meant it was ok to do what I did. Edgar, I'm still not even ok with what I did," Sig started to cry and Edgar stood up and hugged his brother tightly.

"It's over, remember?" Edgar whispered in his ear.

Sig hugged him tightly back and wished that were true but it wasn't. It wasn't over until he told his father the truth.

Sig stood up, keeping his brother in the hug and carrying him back into the kitchen. He walked with him into the living room and turned on the TV. The two of them watched television for awhile and eventually Norman joined them. Edgar was especially clingy, practically sitting on top of his oldest brother on the sofa. Edgar was getting worried that Sig was in some kind of big trouble and he couldn't help but blame himself somehow. Damn that knot and this awful situation. Edgar did take note that the knot and the pain with it had completely left.

* * *

When the phone finally rang at exactly 8:00 pm, all three boys jumped up simultaneously. Sig ran to the kitchen, Norm to the steps and Edgar up to the upstairs hallway. All three picked up the phones at the same time but there was only one person going to be speaking for the three of them, their eldest brother was about to do all the talking.

"Hello," Sig said into the phone.

"Hey, son," Sverre Hansen responded in a thick Norwegian accent. "How are things at home?" Their father could hear two other people breathing softly in the background and he knew that he had all three of his sons on the line, he just wasn't about to share that information.

Sig went on a little about how he had managed the household things since his father was away. He asked his dad what time the boat was leaving and where he was planning on fishing and other boat related items.

Finally Sverre asked about Norman.

"He's fine," Sig replied, "Working a lot."

"And Edgar?" Sverre asked.

Sig swallowed and started knotting up the long phone cord that hung from the kitchen wall.

"Edgar got himself in a little trouble but he's ok," Sig replied as casually as he could.

Sverre was a very smart man and could tell there was a lot more to this "little trouble" and questioned his oldest son. "What kind of trouble, Sigurd?"

_Shit, he's already using my full name, not a good sign. The truth, Sig_. Sig cleared his throat and tried to explain the best he could but being honest at the same time.

"Well," Sig started, "Edgar broke his curfew, ran away, got drunk and wrecked his bike…but he's fine now. He didn't get hurt in the accident."

Sverre heard a little gasp that did not come from his eldest son.

"I'll come home. There's a flight leaving in the morning. I can put off this trip for a few weeks," Sverre said and was completely ready to jump on the morning flight.

"No dad, please, you have to stay. I handled things," Sig said, trying to reassure his father.

Sverre became angry and quickly informed his son, "Sigurd, what your brother did was very wrong. He could have been killed. This is not something that gets put on the list in pencil only to be erased before I get back."

All three boys froze in place. A pin dropping on the floor could have been heard from down the street.

Sig found his voice and asked incredulously, "You knew…all this time…you knew about that?"

Sverre had to laugh. "Of course I knew. I could never find a pencil in the house with an eraser. I started buying your mother those yellow erasers that go over the back of the pencils. She was a good woman with the heart of an angel but she let you boys get away with almost anything."

Sverre listened to the silence on the phone. He went on, like someone was pushing the words out of his mouth, "You know, I would pray every time I got home that she would have erased the whole damn list."

Sverre could hear someone start crying softly in the background, not sure which one of his sons it was.

Sig responded softly, "She erased a lot over the years, dad."

"I know but your brother's actions wouldn't have been one of those times," Sverre said sternly.

Sig swallowed again, "I know, dad. I handled it the best I could." Sig felt the tears in his eyes but didn't let it show in his voice.

Sverre became very worry. "What exactly do you mean, son? How did you handle things?"

Sig stood up straight, almost like his father was right in front of him instead of on the phone and he told his father the truth, well, sort of. "I…gave him…a lickin'." He then added softly, "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know if it was the right thing to do but...that's what I did."

Sverre was shocked that Sig would do such a thing but he almost kicked himself for the shock. He himself had set that tone in the house. He had always been stern with his boys but he never expected something like this.

"Sig, I need you to tell me the truth now." Sverre said gently.

"Yes, sir," was all Sig could get out.

"Did you hurt your brother, I mean really hurt him?" Sverre questioned softly.

"No sir, he was hurting some today but he's fine. Nothing permanent. I was very careful, as careful as I could be," Sig replied honestly.

"Did your brother cry?" Sverre asked his next question.

Sig hadn't expect that question and wasn't sure how to answer it. He didn't want to make his little brother look bad in his father's eyes and he hesitated.

"Sig, just tell me the truth. Did he cry, yes or no?" Sverre pressed on.

"Yes, sir, he cried and…I hugged him afterwards and told him he was forgiven and that I love him," Sig thought, _well kid, if your going down, I'm going with you_.

Sverre breathed a sigh of relief. His son managed to handle this whole situation better than he would have himself.

"Did you cry?" Sverre asked his next question.

Sig wasn't ashamed in the least and answered honestly, "Yes, sir. Almost the whole time and a lot after."

"Me, too, each and every time I did that to you boys," Sverre answered just as honest. Again, the house and all its occupants froze. Their father never cried once during any of the strapping they got over the years. Then their father added, "Why do you think I always left the kitchen so quickly. I couldn't get out of there fast enought because I cried my eyes out EVERY SINGLE TIME."

Sig lost it, slipped to the kitchen floor like an actress in the bad movie and sobbed on the phone, not caring that his entire family was hearing him. It didn't matter much since the rest of his family was crying right along with him. It was the moment Sig would never forget.

"DAD…" was all Sig could get out after awhile.

"I know, kid. I know why you did what you did. Because I set the tone for it. But I should have handled the discipline differently. I should have talked to you about things and been there for you when it was over. I just don't know how. I was wrong all these years to handling things like I did. I just love you and I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't go on living if something happened to any of you," Sverre was crying, too but he added, "Things will be different when I get back. I may need you to help me…pack away some of your mother's things."

Sig nodded like his dad was right in front of him but managed a strangled, "Yes, sir…I love you, too."

Sverre was pressed for time and wanted to talk to his son's about a lot of things but he had to go. "I'll be back at the end of the summer. You did ok, Sig. I trust that you have things under control. It wasn't an easy thing to do but I am proud of you and I know your brothers will be safe in your care. I'll call when I can."

"Be safe, good fishing," Sig added, remembering that his father was about to embark on a dangerous job.

The three of them heard then click on the other end of the line but not before they heard a very soft "Love you all" in a deep, thick Norwegian accent.

END PART 1


	13. Stuck With Me

Part 2

Sig managed to reach up and replace the phone receiver on its hook. He slumped back down and continued crying right there on the kitchen floor. He folded his legs up to his chest and buried his face in between his knees and sobbed like a baby, his shoulders racking and the tears wetting his jeans.

He wasn't banished from the house. His father told him he was proud of how Sig handled his brother's situation and punishment. His father had told him that all those punishments in the past were just as difficult for him to give as the one Sig gave Edgar the previous night. His father told him in his own way that the family was going to start moving on from the loss of their mother and that things were going to be different. But more important then anything else, Sig's father told him he loved him, that he loved the three of them. He actually said it, out loud, twice, in one conversation. Sig couldn't remember the Old Man saying that more than once a year, usually around Christmas, and even then only because mom made him. If the man had said nothing else, Sig would have been just as happy and relieved as he was right at that moment. _He loves me. I miss you so much, dad. Please come home safe_.

Sig was crying so hard that he didn't hear the front door of the house open and close, the truck leaving the driveway and he didn't hear the soft footsteps that came down the stairs and quietly crept into the kitchen. He only felt the tender touch of someone's hand, a much younger someone than him, taking his and trying to pull him up off the floor. Sig put his legs out straight, easily resisted the tug of the little hand and pulled back, dumping this person onto his lap and catching him with his left arm carefully. Sig then buried his face into this someone's chest and continued crying.

Edgar stroked his oldest brother's hair and wrapped his arms around him. _Wow, now I get to comfort Sig for a change...and he's actually letting me._ Edgar just held on and let his oldest brother cry it out. He knew that both Sig and Norman had dealt with dad's manner of discipline a lot longer than he had, being only 13 years old and his brothers almost fully grown. Edgar was much more grateful that their father wasn't angry at Sig for punishing him last night. _I couldn't have lived with myself if I had been the cause of my father's anger towards my brother. _

After a little while, Sig took a few deep breaths and calmed himself down. He leaned back against the counter and wiped his face with his right hand. He looked into his youngest brother's concerned green eyes and smiled a little.

"Sorry," he offered quietly.

"Don't be, Sig. It's pretty much a monumental moment for dad to tell us he loves us, let alone twice in one day. I know how worried you were, too, about telling him everything," Edgar said with a reassuring nod.

"I thought he was gonna to kick me out of the house, I really did" Sig confessed without thinking, remembering how worried he had been all day.

"Guess you're not that lucky," Edgar said with a playful nudge but finally realizing the gravity of his brother's concern. Dad could have easily kicked Sig out if he was mad enough. That thought hadn't even dawned on him before and Edgar was now twice as grateful their father wasn't angry at Sig.

Sig looked confused as to how he was "not being lucky" and Edgar explained, "Well, I guess you're still stuck taking care of me all summer," finishing his statement with a shrug and looking down at the floor.

Now Sig understood. Gently, he reached his hand and placed it under Edgar's chin, raising his eyes to his own. He explained reassuringly, "I'm not stuck, kid. I'll always be here to take care of you. No one is making me."

But Edgar burst out, "But you wanted to go fishing with dad this summer and…"

"Doesn't matter now," Sig interrupted, "I'll go fishing soon enough. Then I'll most likely spend the rest of my life fishing. Who knows, I'll probably die in that wheelhouse sitting in that chair. Let me just enjoy this summer with you and Norman before I'm gone all the time."

Edgar didn't like this line of thinking at all. He always knew his brother was going to go fishing and be away a lot, like their father, but now that loss had a whole new meaning. _How soon is this gonna happen_, he wondered. _I just got you back, Sig, better than before. Let's not talk about you leaving already. It makes me very sad_ _to even think about it._

"Maybe I'll be fishing with you someday," Edgar said, trying to cheer himself up.

"That day is a long way off…finish school first. Don't try and grow up so fast, ok?" Sig said and motioned to get up.

Edgar got off him and helped his brother off the floor, this time his brother accepted the offer of help, although Edgar wasn't nearly strong enough to get his big brother off the floor on his own so Sig had to help himself most of the way. Sig got up and leaned around the counter to look into the living room. The TV was still on, the lights burning brightly but the room was empty.

"Where is our brother?" Sig asked, thinking of Norman for the first time, concerned about how their middle brother reacted to such profound statements from their normally very stoic father.

"He left the house, I think. I heard the truck pull out of the driveway. Didn't he say anything to you before he left?" Edgar asked.

Sig shook his head and started to get a little worried. Norman could take care of himself but Sig didn't think it was a good idea for him to be driving around after such an unusual phone call from dad. _I'm sure he's fine_.

"I'm making some popcorn. You want some?" Sig asked absentmindedly.

"Sure, I'll find something to watch on TV," Edgar went to leave the kitchen.

"No, turn it off. Let's play cards or something. Too much TV isn't good for you," Sig said as he got the popcorn out of the cabinet and put the alien spaceship looking contraption on the stove burner.

Edgar liked the idea of playing cards instead of watching TV and went into the living room to turn off the television. He was much more of a doer than a watcher any day of the week and returned to the kitchen, getting the playing card set out of the utensil drawer. He placed the deck on the table and walked over to stove to watch the spaceship start to rise slowly.

"I always did love this part. It's so cool," Edgar seemed excited. Sig just laughed and added, "Me too!"

They waited excitedly and when the tin foil began to rise into a balloon shaped ball filled with the sounds of popping corn, Sig held it over the stove and threatened to keep it there until it burst.

"No!" Edgar screamed and tried to grab it from him. "You'll burn it!" but he was laughing the whole time.

Sig played keep-a-away for a few seconds and then decided the popcorn was too good to waste so he pulled it off the stove and let the spaceship settle. Sig also grabbed some butter and melted it quickly in a pot. Then he took the popcorn, ripping open the container with a knife (killing all the aliens inside) and dumped the popcorn into a large mixing bowl. He dowsed the popcorn with sweet melted butter and added a liberal amount of salt from the salt shaker on the kitchen table.

Edgar had already started shuffling the cards and looked with wide eyes as his brother purposefully swept the popcorn bowl under his nose as he walked by to sit across from Edgar. The butter and salt were an enticing combination and the smell overtook the kitchen, fighting with the sweet smelling summer night air coming through the kitchen screen door. It was the perfect combination of scents.

"What are we playing?" Edgar wanted to know, deck shuffled, sitting anxiously on the table and his hand already in the popcorn bowl.

Sig popped a piece of hot popcorn in his mouth and said mischievously, "How about Texas hold'em?"

Edgar looked at his brother with big eyes and said desperately, "I don't know how to play poker. And we don't have any money…well, I don't have any money."

"I'll show you, don't worry" Sig explained, "As for money, well…" He looked around and decided to dumped half the contents of the popcorn bowl into the table. He divided the "pot" in half, pushing one half to his brother and keeping the other half for himself.

Edgar felt very grown up and loved that his oldest brother was about to teach him something he never learned before. Sig went over all the rules, which hand outranked which and when to bet. The two of them played for hours, despite eating part of their winnings. Sig taught his little brother how to play Seven Card Stud, Five Card Draw and Omaha as well. After awhile, Edgar got the hang of all these versions and found out he was quite good at it, like a natural, all except for one little nervous telltale habit.

During one round, Sig finally pointed it out. "Edgar, I know you are bluffing."

Edgar looked up surprised, his hand rubbing furiously at his cheek. "How can you know?"

"You always rub at your face when you are nervous about something. You give the bluff away every time," Sig said with a smile.

Edgar froze in place, his hand still at his cheek. "Oh" was all he said, slowly lowering his hand to rest on the table. _I'll have to keep that in mind._

Sig just laughed and they continued playing. They talked about different things while they played, like where dad was fishing and why Salmon wasn't nearly as lucrative as crab. Sig talked about the different kinds of crabs, like Red King Crab, Blue Crab, Opies and Bardi Crabs, and where each species migrated each year. Edgar realized his big brother had been listening to his father's lectures all this years and soaking up all this information. Edgar usually tuned out these lectures, finding them boring. Now, with Sig adding so much excitement to it, Edgar listened with a new found interest.

As they played on, Sig started to notice that it was getting pretty late and Norman still hadn't come home. Around 11:00, Sig announced to Edgar that it was time for Edgar to go to bed. Edgar could have hung out with his brother all night, he was having so much fun and he resisted putting an end to the night.

"Why? It's summer. I don't have to get up early," Edgar whined a little.

"On the contrary, you do have to get up early. Tomorrow, you are going to work with Norman," Sig explained and watched his little brother's eyes light up.

"Really?" Edgar asked, very excited to be able to hang out at the hardware store all day but more grateful that he wouldn't have to spend the day home alone by himself.

"Yes, really. But don't get in the way. Your brother needs this job. Just help out and do what you are told or you'll never be able to go again," Sig explained absentmindedly, wondering where that particular brother-in-question was at that very moment.

Edgar was about to answer that he would do all these things when they both heard the truck pull up into the driveway and the truck door slam shut. A few moments later, Norman came through the kitchen door, swaying slightly and barely able to close the screen door. He reeked of whiskey and was slurring his words, "Whatcha ppplllaying, bros? Cccan I play, too?" he asked and had to lean against the counter to hold himself upright.

"Are you drunk?" Sig asked incredulously, although the answer was plain to see…and smell.

"That's a verrrry good possibility, Siggy," Norman answered, waving his hand wildly in the air.

Edgar made a motion to move over to his drunken brother when his very angry, very sober brother stopped him with just one look.

"Edgar, go to bed!" Sig commanded softly.

"But…" Edgar wanted to stay and make sure Norman was ok. He had never seen his brother this drunk. Sure, he had seen him drink a little at family parties and had heard stories about how wild his brothers had gotten while at their friends' houses. But Norman had never come home like this before. Of course, Mom would have killed him if he did, especially if he had driven home in his current state. _But mom's not here anymore, is she? So is this kind of behavior ok now from my older brothers?_

Sig wasn't about to let Edgar see Norman in his current condition any more than he already had. Sig actually felt humiliated that their middle brother didn't take Edgar into consideration before he came stumbling through the door, for that matter, before he even took his first sip of whiskey.

"Mind me, now!" was Sig's stern command directed towards the littlest brother of the family.

Edgar recognized the tone of authority and bowed his head. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, Norm. Goodnight, Sig. Thanks for teaching me poker and…everything else." Edgar looked over at his oldest brother out of the corner of his eye, head still lowered.

Sig looked at his youngest brother and gave him a smiled "My pleasure, kid. I had as much fun as you did. Goodnight, Edgar," he answered very gently, a little ashamed that he was so stern with Edgar a few moments ago. The kid was surely scared and confused about Norman's state and Sig wished very much he had the time to explain to Edgar what was going on, that their middle brother wanted to drink away the knowledge that their father's method of discipline wasn't always what they thought it was and that it had mattered and that Norman was loved and that he couldn't pretend these things never happened.

Sig wanted to explain all of this to his youngest brother but he couldn't at the moment. Right now, he had another very drunk brother to deal with.


	14. The State of Washington

Edgar slowly got up from the kitchen table and, with a final look towards his older and intoxicated brother, slunk quietly from the room.

"Goodnight, Edgarrr," Norman slurred softly as he left.

Edgar stopped, his back to both of his brothers and answered without a hint of sarcasm, "I hope you feel better, Norman."

"I couldn't feel any b..b..better than I do rrright now," Norman responded drunkenly.

_You won't be saying that in the morning, tough guy_, Sig thought to himself.

* * *

Edgar left the kitchen and headed upstairs. As fast as possible, he brushed his teeth and washed his face in the bathroom sink. Then he headed to his bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. He flipped off the lights and climbed into bed. _Oh God, Norm, what were you thinking? How is Sig going to handle this?_ Edgar started to get worried but stopped himself. _I trust my oldest brother. He'll handle it right. No need to worry. _Just in case, Edgar sent up a little prayer to his mother. He asked her to help Sig do the right thing and to give him patience and understanding. _You can never have enough help, right?_

Then he leaned over and turned on his clock radio. He flipped through the radio stations for a minute, looking for the one he wanted. When the dial ended up on the country music station, he stopped and rested his head back down on the pillows. Edgar liked all kinds of music, he wasn't picky and he didn't have a favorite. Tonight, he rolled over on his side, hugging the blankets around him and drifted off the sleep to the sounds of country music, his small tribute to their middle brother.

* * *

Sig watched his younger brother move uneasily over to the kitchen table and almost fall on the floor. Sig caught him and guided him over to one of the chairs, putting Norm's arms on the table for support. When he was sure his brother was secure, he turned, closed and locked the inside door of the kitchen.

Sig didn't want to turn back around and face this mess in front of him. He was livid at his brother for pulling a stunt like this, regardless of the reasons, none of which would have justified this behavior. Sig felt pretty close to punching Norman's lights out when a soft, unexplainable wave of patience and understanding washed over him like a warm summer's breeze. _Where did that come from? _Sig found his footing, refocused his anger and turned to face his drunk brother.

Norm was resting his cheek in his hand, elbow bent and leaning on the table, slipping occasionally. He flashed Sig the most amazing smile. Sig fought back the deep urge to wipe the smile right off his face.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Sig asked, trying to keep his voice at a reasonable tone. He was not about to get Edgar all upset hearing his brother yelling.

Norman just continued to stare at his brother with the biggest smile.

"Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?" Sig asked, again trying to keep himself under control.

Norman lost the power to keep his elbow bent and his arm slipped down to the table, his head almost following. Norman thought that was rather funny and started laughing softly at himself.

At this point, Sig started talking to himself out loud because apparently that was the only way he was going to have a normal conversation. "I can see that you think this is funny, a veritable laugh riot. You have no idea right now what you have done, do you? I don't even know if you know where you are. It's pointless for me to try and reason with you in your current state…"

"That would be the ssstate of Washington, not D.C." Norman interjected his help with a nod.

Sig restrained himself. He continued on with his one-sided conversation. "Dad just said to me not four hours ago, Your Brothers Are Safe In Your Care. Oh my holy God, if dad knew about this, he'd take that statement back in a New York minute. Then he would kill you, make me watch him killing you and then kill me. No, I take that back. Killing is too quick. First he'd strap me good for not keeping track of you, not caring one bit that I'm 18. Then he would give you the strapping of your life. Then the killing would begin. That's pretty much how things would go."

Norman listened to his oldest brother rambling on and thought Sig seemed like the funniest guy in the world. It was like his own personal stand-up act performed just for him. _When did my older brother become such a comedian?_ Norm decided to show his appreciation for the show like any respectful audience and started giving his brother a hearty round of applause.

Sig heard the clapping, listened to it for a second or two and then lost it. He turned on his brother, grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him up the steps, knocking over the kitchen chair in the process. Norman didn't even know what was happening. On a good day, it would have been an even fight between the two of them but this was not a good day. Norman was in no shape to resist, even if he had known what was about to happen. He was forced to let his older brother manhandle him through the house, up the stairs and into the bathroom.

When Norman realized where he was, he tried to explain to Sig that he already took a leak in the abandoned parking lot a few streets down from the house where he went to get himself "liquored up." Sig's only response was to shut the bathroom door and drag his brother over to the shower, turning the water on full blast, ice cold full blast.

Norman finally realized what they were doing in the bathroom. He tried to put up a fight but between the fear of the icy water, the quick motions he made up the steps and the world, which was suddenly spinning out of control, he started to get very sick to his stomach. Sig turned around from the shower, his right hand still grabbing on to his brother's shirt and saw the greenish face looking back at him. Sig recognized that look immediately and got his brother over to the porcelain god in the nick of time.

Norman collapsed to his knees and started vomiting his guts out, holding on to the sides of the toilet for dear life. Sig left the shower water running so that the noise of the shower would drown out the noise of the painful vomiting. _That's the last thing I need Edgar to hear_. He did change the water temp. over to hot and let the bathroom fill up with steam. He then left his brother vomiting over the toilet to go and get a clean pair of shorts and shirt from Norman's dresser and a washcloth and towel from the hallway closet. Sig came back into the bathroom, shutting the door, to find his brother still vomiting into the toilet.

Sig couldn't help himself. He commented smartly, "Serves you right."

Norman heard him and between sessions of heaving, he asked in an angry voice, "Why is it that when Edgar gets in trouble, he gets sweet, caring big brother and when I get in trouble, I get mean, non-compassionate big brother?"

Sig laughed, ran the washcloth under cold water from the sink and sat on the edge of the tub. Norman looked over at him disgustedly, his face still half in the toilet bowl. Sig gave him a sympathetic look and explained the best he could, "Listen, and don't get me wrong, I love Edgar to the moon and back but you, you're more than just my brother…" Sig leaned over and whispered in his ear "…you're my best friend, Norman. Can't lose my best friend. Then where would I be?" Then Sig placed the cool washcloth over his brother's neck and rubbed his sore shoulders gently.

No one in history had sobered up faster than Norman Hansen at that very moment. He managed to expel the last of the contents of his stomach into the toilet, all the while, his big brother tried to comfort him the best he knew how, rubbing his back and wiping the vomit off his face with toilet paper. When Norman was sure he had nothing left to offer the porcelain god, Sig took the washcloth off his neck and handed it to him. Norman wiped his forehead and mouth and leaned back against the bathroom wall. Sig turned off the shower for a minute and went and sat next to his brother on the bathroom floor. _It is somewhat interesting the places I end up, first the kitchen floor and now the bathroom floor. Pretty soon, I'll be sitting on the garage floor. _

Norman felt his brother sit next to him but he couldn't look at him. He continued looking at his feet. He must have smelled something terrible but Sig still sat next to him.

Sig put an arm around his brother's shoulders and asked a simple question, "Why?" although he already knew the reason.

Norman had nothing left to use as resistance. He was completely drained, no sarcasm or spunk left in the tank. He started crying quietly, feeling the tears burn his eyes and then run down his face. He explained brokenly, "I don't know…All those years of thinking he didn't care about it, like it meant nothing to him…do you know how many times I left that kitchen table feeling like the worse son in the world?"

"As a matter of fact, I do – from personal experience," Sig answered honestly.

"One word, Sig, just one word after it was over…well, other than the 'let's not have this conversation again' comment which doesn't count in my book...would have made sooo much of a difference. It would have meant the world to me. He could have said, 'Good job, you took it well' or 'sorry but it needed to be done' or…" Norman started crying pretty hard and buried his face in his hands.

"Everything's forgiven and I love you?" Sig offered quietly.

Norman only nodded, his head in his hands and cried harder. Sig rubbed his shoulder a little and thought, _That's what I wanted, too, tough guy. Don't be embarrassed_.

"Why did he let us suffer like that when it really did mean something to him?" Norman asked resentfully through the tears.

"I don't know, Norman. Maybe because he can't show it or he always wants us to think he's made of steel or that's how he was raised or a million other things. It's just the way he is," Sig tried to explain the only way he knew how.

Norman looked up and over at his brother, tears still running down his face. "You always stick up for him, no matter what," Norman said with resignation, "It should have been different and you know it, I know you do. That's why you were so good to Edgar when you punished him. How did you know to do it like that?"

"I didn't. I just treated him like I always wanted to be treated when I got in trouble and had to be punished," Sig had to confess to himself that he also had a lot of guidance and help from heaven but he didn't share that with Norman. He didn't think Norman would understand.

"And Edgar doesn't think you're weak for being like that with him. Jesus, he thinks the sun rises in your eyes. I can see how much he trust and respects you now. My God, it's like you're his hero." Norman recognized the jealousy in his own voice and took it down a notch. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that. I am just so fucking angry."

"Ask yourself, Norman, would it have been better if dad never told you? You would have spent the rest of your life thinking it didn't matter. Is that what you would have wanted, if you had the choice?" Sig asked patiently.

Norman really had to think about that question and, in the end, he couldn't come up with an answer. He only buried his head again and muttered, "I don't know…it's overwhelming…like he saved up 17 years worth of love and gave it to me all in one five minute phone call."

"Better five minutes then never…at least that's how I feel," Sig said gently.

Norman started crying again and Sig could only hold his arm around his brother and let him have his cry. After some time, when Norman had quieted down to mere sniffles, Sig suggested strongly, "You smell awful…I mean it…you smell like a bar room floor."

Norman laughed a little and raised his head, "I guess I need shower after all."

"You o.k., can you handle it by yourself, because if not, I'd love to toss your ass in some ice cold water fully dressed and save myself the trouble of washing your clothes?" Sig said as he picked himself up off the bathroom floor. He reached down and helped his brother up with ease.

Norman was a little wobbly but he righted himself and took a few breaths. "I got it, no need for an audience. Not many people can handle the gun show anyway."

"Good, use soap, will ya? That's what it's there for," Sig said as he tossed Norman a clean towel from off the rack and left the bathroom. He heard the shower start again a few seconds later. Sig opened Edgar's bedroom door quietly and checked on him. The kid was sound asleep and hopefully hadn't heard a thing. Then Sig went downstairs, righted the overturned kitchen chair that got knocked over during the previous encounter and turned off the lights, not before filling a large glass of ice water from the sink and grabbing two aspirin from the cabinet by the door.

Norman quickly showered, allowing himself a few more tears in the process and got out of the tub carefully. He noticed for the first time his brother had brought in clean clothes for him and could have kicked himself for the 'mean, non-compassionate big brother' comment earlier. _You're my best friend, Norman. Oh, Shit, what have I done?_ Norman pushed those thoughts aside for now because he couldn't cry anymore. The headache was starting and he needed to go to sleep. He dressed quickly, brushed his teeth and towel dried his hair. He left the dirty clothes and towel on the floor. _Tomorrow_, he thought, _I'm too tired now_.

When he got to his room, his big brother was waiting for him with a glass of ice water and two aspirin. Norman took both gladly, taking the pills and swallowing the water till the glass was empty. Sig waited and then took the empty glass from him. Then he pulled the covers back from Norman's bed and his brother practically fell into the soft landing. Sig replaced the covers and turned off the light.

Norman curled up in his bed and looked up at his big brother in the moonlight from his open window. "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?" Norman asked, although he already knew the answer.

Sig sat down next to him on the bed and rubbed his shoulder lightly over the covers. "We'll talk about it tomorrow after dinner when you're feeling better."

"I don't think I'm going to be feeling better after tomorrow night, either," Norman grumbled.

Sig laughed and said softly, "Get some sleep now, you're wiped out. You have to get up early for work tomorrow. Don't forget, you're taking the kid with you."

Norman buried his head in the pillow and groaned, "Oh shit, Edgar."

"Yes, Edgar…forgot about him, didn't ya?" Sig said with meaning. "You're going to need to talk to him about all this, understood?'

Norman nodded his head into his pillow. Now he had two difficult conversations coming up tomorrow instead of just one.

Sig rubbed his brother's shoulder for a few minutes and felt Norman relax. He then went to leave out the door when he heard a soft voice say quietly, "Sig…you're my best friend, too."

_Maybe not after tomorrow night_, Sig couldn't stop his inner thought quick enough.

* * *

The day dawned rainy and miserable, a reminder that this was still Seattle and it was still early summer. Despite the weather outside, Edgar woke up full of sunshine and happiness. He was very excited to be going with Norman to work today.

Too bad Norman didn't feel the same way about going to work today. He woke up with a massive headache and a sore neck, shoulders, stomach, come to think of it, a sore everything.

Sig had made his second pot of coffee before their middle brother crawled into the kitchen, stopping only to drop his dirty clothes from last night into the washer. Edgar was already finished his eggs and bacon, made by the world's greatest cook, in his humble opinion and was ready to go. He was glad to see older brother solidly on his feet and sober, although somber was a better way to describe Norman's mood.

Edgar had already asked Sig what happened last night and got an answer that would satisfy a 13 year old. Sig told Edgar: _Norman got a shower, felt better and went to bed._ When Edgar pressed about Norman being in trouble, he got a cryptic response that things would be discussed tonight and was told not to worry about it. Edgar didn't want to listen to that advice but he knew he had no control over it so he let it go. He trusted Sig without question.

Norman was standing by the phone when it rang and he winced from the sound, grabbing his head and picking up the phone so it would stop making it's awful noise.

It was Matt, Edgar's best friend, and Edgar got on the phone. They talked for a minute and then Edgar asked Sig if he could go over to Matt's house this evening. Matt and his older brother, Nick, were going to see a movie and asked Edgar to come along.

Sig was secretly grateful for the invitation for two reasons. One, Matt and his brother were good guys, the kind of friends Edgar should have been hanging out with instead of the scum down at "The Shack" and he had lost contact with his good friends for the last few months. Sig was happy to hear that Matt still wanted to be friends with Edgar because he was a good friend to have. The second reason Sig was grateful was that now Edgar was going to be out of the house when Sig had his discussion with Norman. That would make things just a tiny bit easier.

Sig gave his permission gladly and Edgar told Matt he be over around 5:00. Matt's brother would drop him back off at the house by 9:00 – the long established curfew time for the youngest household member.

Norman went upstairs to get ready for work, forgoing breakfast as he didn't have the stomach for it anyway. He just made his usual cup of tea and took it with him. Sig pulled Edgar aside, asking him to give Norman some space today, to try and be quiet and stay out of the way. Edgar nodded his understanding and would have been as quiet as a church mouse if it meant he got to go to the hardware store. Sig then ruffled his kid brother's hair and told him to have fun tonight, shoving a twenty dollar bill in the kid's hand and leaving out the garage before Edgar could respond.

Edgar stood there with the money in his hand and listened to the Trans Am start up and pull out of the garage. _How did I get so lucky because I don't deserve to have these guys for brothers?_ He shoved the money in his back pocket of his jeans for later. Quickly, Edgar packed four sandwiches, snacks and drinks for lunch and then waited anxiously by the kitchen door for Norman.

* * *

The ride to work was a quiet one. Edgar wanted to ask Norman all sorts of questions about his work and what it was like and would he show him all the different tools but he wisely sensed that now was not the time. His brother looked all the worse for wear, dark circles under his eyes, his lips chapped and he was driving with his head resting against his left hand.

Edgar did take note that Norman's right hand was on the steering wheel, ringless, unlike their oldest brother. _Norman should be getting his own class ring soon since he was starting his senior year in the fall_._ Hopefully, he'd be getting his class ring_. Edgar wondered if their father would remember something like that now that mom was gone. Picking out a class ring was something that would have normally fallen into mom's department.

When they got to the hardware store, Norman parked in the lot and unlocked the front door. He flicked on the lights and went about readying the place for opening. Edgar just stood there, inhaling the greatest fragrance he ever smelled. It's hard to imagine, but if Edgar could have, he would have found a way to bottle the smell. It was a mixture of sawdust, metal and man. Edgar loved the hardware store, LOVED it. He loved coming here with his father and brothers to buy super cool tools and other supplies. He could have lived here all the time and been happy and he was very envious when Norman got this job for the summer. For Edgar, a job like this would have been a dream come true. Now, he got to help his brother and it was almost like he had the dream job for himself.

Norman quickly put Edgar to work, stacking shelves with boxes and organizing tools. It was Monday and the traffic in the store was light, just a few older gentlemen, retired fishermen, stopped in for a few things and asked Norman about their father. Despite feeling lousy, Norman was very respectful and polite, telling them their father was well and out on a Salmon trip. The old fisherman grumbled about the market price for Salmon being so low that the processors were practically robbing the poor fishermen blind. Norman agreed and asked after their wives, families and the latest gossip. It was a small community and everyone knew everyone. The older gentlemen stayed for a bit and then wandered out.

Before long, it was time for lunch. Since Norman had no one working with him, he had to eat at the front counter. Edgar came and joined him, bring the packed lunches with him. He gave Norman three of the sandwiches and kept one for himself. Norman hadn't realized how hungry he was until the offering was put before him and he ate like a man starved. Edgar just smiled and ate his lunch too.

Norman began to feel more like himself after the meal and he looked over at his little brother. No one was in the store so he figured now was as good a time as any.

"Edgar, about last night…" Norman started.

Edgar anticipated this conversation happening at some point today but he didn't want to humiliate his brother by letting him talk about it so he interrupted, "Yeah, you're ok, though. Everything turned out fine."

Norman gently grabbed his little brother's arm and pulled him closer to him, turning him so that they were facing each other. "No, everything is far from fine. I never should have come home like that. For that matter, I should have never gotten like that to begin with, period. But you especially should have never seen me like that. I'm sorry if I scared you. I was angry and upset but there are no excuses for what I did. Plain and simple, I did a very stupid thing and I am ashamed of myself."

Edgar lowered his head but Norman put his hand on the side of his brother's face and raised it, rubbing his cheek gently, "I'm sorry, Edgar."

"Are you in trouble?" Edgar asked softly.

"I got drunk and drove home intoxicated. What do you think?" Norm gave him a little smile. "Those things are never ok to do at my age or yours."

Edgar's eyes got teary as he looked into his brother's blue ones, "You're gonna get punished, aren't you?" he whispered and a tear slipped down his cheek, onto his brother's hand.

Norman smiled reassuringly, "I think that is a foregone conclusion. Listen to me, please don't worry. I'm a big kid and I know when I've screwed up. I'll gladly take whatever's comin' my way, ok. Please, I don't want you to worry about it." Norman didn't give Edgar a chance to argue, he just pulled him into his chest and put his arms around him. Edgar hugged him back tightly and buried his face in his brother's big bicep.

"Isn't that sooo sweet," said a deep, menacing voice that dripped with sarcasm.

Norman and Edgar pulled away from each other and found Elliot and four of his cronies from "The Shack" standing at inside the front entrance of the store. They were big guys, all of them and they just read "trouble" from first sight. Edgar let out a little gasp. On pure instinct, Norman pushed himself in front of Edgar, hands at his side, hidden baseball bat under the counter easily within reach of right hand, his left holding his brother's arm behind him.

"Can I help you guys?" Norman asked casually.

The five of them walked slowly up to the counter and Norman put his hand in the end of the bat.

"Maybe, we hear there are some fat cats in the area this summer, looking for a place to hold some illegal gambling and we'd like to help them out, since we have the perfect place for it. We're looking for wooden card tables, lots of them. I hear these guys are sharks at poker. Of course, they haven't met me yet," Elliot explained, not once looking in Norman's direction. He was too busy casing the store and seeing if there was anything worth stealing at a later date.

One of his cronies pulled out a cigarette and went to light it.

"Adam, isn't it?" Norman asked him.

The guy stopped in mid flick of his lighter. "Yeah, I graduated with your brother. Super sweet ride I see him driving around town in these days. Graduation present from good ole' mom and dad?"

"No, my brother worked four years to buy that car himself. No one gave it to him." Norman replied softly, with meaning. _Figures the guy doesn't have taste in automobiles_.

"Interesting concept," Adam replied, going to light his cigarette.

"Adam, the sign out front says No Smoking," Norman warned him flatly, staring him down. _Not that you can read_.

Adam stared back hard and then over to Elliot, making it clear that Elliot was their leader. Elliot just shook his head and Adam shrugged, extinguished his lighter, putting the cigarette back in his pocket.

Elliot turned his attention to Edgar, eyeing him up and down. 'We miss you down at the track, little man."

"Yeah, he means we miss the money you made us!" Another guy added with an evil laugh. Norman vaguely remembered this guy from school too. His name was Joe, he was Adam's younger brother and he had dropped out several years back. He would have been graduating with Norman now if he had stayed in school. _Loser._

"The place hasn't been the same without you. When you comin' back? We could use some spending cash." Adam sneered in Edgar's direction.

Norman felt Edgar start to tremble behind him and he squeezed his brother's arm for reassurance and pulled him close.

"I'll only tell you one time, do NOT speak to my brother, ever." Norman said in a tone Edgar had never heard him use before.

"Or what?" Joe asked, hands up in the air. It was a clear challenge.

As fate (or someone from above looking out for them) would have it, a police car pulled into the parking lot and two officers got out, their presence clearly visible through the large store-front windows. The officers were headed to the coffee shop next door but their presence alone was enough to startle the group. Several of them already had warrants out for their arrest.

"I don't think you're gonna find what you're looking for here. Try the game store down the road." Norman was thanking every saint in the book. He was a strong guy but it was five against one, well, maybe one and half and a baseball bat but those still weren't good odds.

"You know, I think you're right. We are in the wrong place, boys," Elliot said. Then he leaned over the counter and looked directly at Edgar, "We'll be seein' ya real soon, little man."

Edgar dropped his eyes like rocks.

"Not likely," Norman hissed, moving so that he was blocking Elliot's gaze.

Elliot just laughed, shooting Norman a hateful look, turned and ushered his cronies out the door.

As the door closed behind them, Norman let out a big sigh of relief. He turned towards his brother and saw the fear in his eyes. The kid was shaking like a leaf. Norman gathered him up in his arms and rubbed the back of his hair gently. "It's ok, little brother. They're gone."

Edgar was trembling in his big brother's arms. "You don't know, Norman, what those guys can do. I've seen it. I've seen them beat people almost to death and laugh about it later," he said in a shaky voice. "They scare me" he whispered.

"You got nothing to worry about. The gun show is always open for business, remember. You don't ever have to see them again. Sig and me, we'd never let anything happen to you," Norman said softly in his ear, nuzzling his nose a little against his temple.

_Yeah, but who's gonna protect the two of you?_ Edgar thought.

* * *

The afternoon was uneventful, except for a pretty blond from Edgar's class that came in with her dad. Edgar was clearly interested in this girl, his eyes following her around the store. Norman walked past Edgar, noticed and gave him a little shove, pushing him to think about the tools he was organizing and not the little blond with the light blue eyes walking up and down the aisles.

Business was slow and the afternoon dragged on. Finally, it was 4:30 and Norman's relief showed up. The brothers packed up their things and headed for the truck.

Norman began the drive to Matt's house to drop off his brother. Edgar was sitting next to him in the truck, rubbing at his cheek. Norman noticed but didn't say anything. He tried to talk to Edgar about the pretty blond that came in the store and offered that maybe she would be at the movie theater tonight. He attempted to distract his brother with a sampling of different pick up lines Edgar could try if the pretty blond did in fact show up. Some of them were just horrible and Edgar ended up laughing hysterically. The distraction worked for awhile.

When the truck pulled up in front of Matt's house, Norman turned to his brother with a big smile. "Have a great time tonight."

Edgar looked like he was going to start crying again. _But what's going to happen to you tonight?_ He turned and looked sadly at his brother.

Norman wasn't going to coddle him. It wouldn't have helped so he said slowly and with meaning, "Get out of the truck and go have fun with your friends."

Edgar still stared at him.

"Now," Norman tried to mimic Sig's tone of authority but he just didn't have the knack. _How did my big brother develop that tone so quickly?_

Edgar's reaction was only to slide over on the seat and latch on to his big brother with both arms.

_I have to coddle and cuddle him, great_. Norman hugged him back tightly and whispered in his ear, "Come on, kid. You think I'm not as brave as you. Give me some credit. I'm a Hansen, after all."

Norman allowed the hug for a minute or two and then peeled his little brother off of him. "Go, I mean it. Please just go and have fun with your friends. It will make me very happy to hear about all the fun you had tonight. Come tell me when you get home, ok?"

Edgar gave his brother one final sad look and got out of the truck. Norman gave him a smile and drove away. Edgar stood there, watching the tail lights fade in the distance. Then he turned and headed up to Matt's house, pretending a smile on his face.

* * *

When Norman got home, Sig already had dinner on the table. A simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs with fresh bread from the local store was on the menu.

Norman washed his hands and sat down across from his brother like always. The two of them talked about their day like always, too. Sig asked how Edgar was at the store and Norman filled him on the great job Edgar did and that, in the end, he was a great worker and had been a big help.

Norman filled Sig in on the visit from Elliot and his cronies. Sig had a few choice words, some in English, and some in Norwegian, about this visit and what he would do if he ever heard of these guys near either of his brothers again.

Norman also filled him in on the local old timer gossip and the pretty blond that seemed to catch Edgar's eye.

They both agreed Edgar was going to go for the blonds all his life and the two of them had a laugh - that would make all three of them casting their lines in that direction.

Sig shared some of his day, the comings and goings at the docks and the gossip about the upcoming crab season. The two of them talked for awhile about other things and finished dinner together. Then Norman washed the dishes, pots and utensils and Sig dried them and put them away. When he was finished, Norman went and sat back down at the kitchen table. He waited quietly and patiently for Sig to finish putting everything away.

Sig was stalling. He tried as long as he could not to turn around because once he did, he'd have to face punishing his little brother. The little brother he played with, fought with, got in trouble with, the one he grew up with. The one he couldn't remember a time without. His best friend.

Norman waited and wondered what was going to happen. He already knew in his heart he deserved whatever punishment his brother had intended for him. He was ready to take a strapping or a spanking or a paddling or any combination there with in. _Maybe I'll get to hear the story about mom and the mystery paddle. Might be worth it, just to get that information out of my brother, well…maybe not_. It didn't matter. He was going to take this punishment and be glad for it because he knew he fucked up royally and the look in Edgar's eyes today was all the motivation for guilt he needed. Once he completely sobered up, he felt the guilt start to eat away at his stomach, like a knot with its own life.

He watched his brother finish what he was doing, take a very deep breath and turn around.

Sig came and sat at the table across from his brother; he didn't stand over him or lean on the counter. He sat with him right at his level, his hands on the table, playing with and twisting his class ring. The two of them stared just stared at each other.

"Norman, I don't even know where to start," Sig admitted after a few moments of silence.

"Me neither," Norman responded honestly. Then he thought of something and acted like he came up with the idea on his own. "Why don't we do this? You can ask me any questions, any questions you want and I promise to give you an honest answer, no matter how hard. Then I get to ask you any questions I want and it's up to you if you want to be honest or not. Sound like a plan?"

Sig squinted his right eye and cocked his head to the side. _How the hell…?_ Then he just closed his eyes and smiled. _Way to follow my lead, kid. I love you, littlest brother._

"Ok, I think I can do this. Me first. Where did you get the whiskey?' Sig asked.

"Dad," they both answered that one at the same time. The two of them had snuck enough of their father's alcohol out of the house over the years to know.

A knowing smile crossed both their lips at the same time.

Sig tried to get serious again.

"Ok, that question doesn't count. Where did you go?" Sig asked.

"Down to the abandoned parking lot," Norman answered.

"By yourself?" Sig asked.

"The whole time," Norman replied.

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" Sig pressed.

"Because you wouldn't have let me go," Norman answered.

"So you knew what you were doing was wrong?" Sig asked a little bit softer.

"Yes," was the soft reply.

"And you got drunk, by yourself, with no one around to protect you?" Sig asked, _like me, your big brother, who is always supposed to protect you._

"Yes," was the reply again.

"And then you drove home drunk. Even if it was a few blocks, you were still behind the wheel of your truck completely wasted?' Sig asked the question he already knew the answer too, just to hear his brother say it. Sadly, he didn't get the response he hoped for.

"Yes, I drove home drunk. I risked my beautiful truck and put her in danger. I didn't think of Edgar and his reaction or how scared he might have been to see me like that. It was an extremely poor example to set for my younger brother and I told him so today. I came in the house drunk without a single thought to my little brother seeing me or my behavior." Norman admitted freely.

"**OR WITH A SINGLE THOUGHT THAT YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED**, God damn it, Norman!" Sig yelled, pounding his fist on the table, sending the salt and pepper shakers flying.

Sig stood up and screamed at his brother, "Didn't this family lose enough already this year, this lifetime? I would have died if something had happened to you. Edgar would have never recovered. Didn't you think of that, did you think of us at all?" Hot tears of anger and fear were burning Sig's eyes and as much as he wanted, he couldn't stop them from falling. He turned away from his brother and closed his eyes. _Shit, I'm sorry._

Norman flinched at the pounding of the table and his brother's tone, but mostly he flinched at his brother's words. They stung more that anything he ever felt before because they were brutally true. Norman hadn't thought of anyone but himself. Not once did he think of how his brothers would have been devastated if something had happened to him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Sig…please…" Norman broke down crying right in front of his brother. He buried his hands in his face and wept. He was never so ashamed in his life, thinking of how much he could have hurt his family, especially since they had all been through enough already.

A minute late, Norman felt his brother lift him out of his chair and hold him against his chest. Norman didn't feel worthy of it and tried to pull away but Sig would have none of that. He pulled Norman back into his arms and held him while he cried. Norman sobbed against his brother chest and begged weakly, "Please just punish me for this, please. Please stop talking about it. It's kill me. Please just punish me…"

"Shhh, we'll get to that. Just calm down, I'm sorry I lost my temper; it's just that…I'd be lost without you. I love you, bro." Sig said softly against his brother's ear, rubbing his back in comforting circles.

To be continued…

**So, how would you handle your 17 year old brother who was drinking and driving? Sig already has his mind made up (and you may be surprised, maybe not) but feel free to add your thoughts. **


	15. The Choice

**DISCLAIMER: This and some future chapters talk about or involve spanking of a minor(s). Please hit the back button now if that is not for you. **

**I do not own anything and I make no money from this. It is total FICTION**!

Norman listened to his brother's comforting words and had to think about the last time Sig actually told him that he loved him. Those words were not spoken very often between the two of them so Norman had to admit to himself that he couldn't really remember the last time his older brother told him he loved him. _Great, he picks now to tell me, now that I've screwed up and disgraced myself in front of my brothers._

Still, those little words had a profound impact and Norman understood that the changes this family was making, about being more affection and honest with each other, wasn't just for Edgar's sake. That love was being extended to Norman, too and he had to be honest with himself that made him feel really good inside.

Norman managed to calm himself down and gently pulled away from his older brother. He wiped a few tears off his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt and took a few deep breaths. _I'm not going to lose it against. Keep it together, Norm_. Norman gave Sig a small smile.

"I'm ok, I'm ok," Norman tried to reassure his brother.

Sig felt like trash. He totally just lost his temper and screamed at his brother. He was disgusted with himself for not giving Norman the same kind of patience and understanding he showed Edgar and he reinforced all his previous promises from his soul-searching two nights ago.

"Norman, sit down, will ya?" Sig said as he gestured to the kitchen chair. Norman sat gratefully and Sig grabbed the chair next to him and turned it so they were facing each other. Sig put his elbows on his knees and leaned in a little towards his brother. Norman still had a few tears slipping out of his eyes and Sig wanted to brush them away but Norman wasn't Edgar and probably wouldn't have appreciated the show of affection.

"Norman, I am so sorry I yelled at you," Sig said softly.

Norman looked at his brother and saw the concern written all over his face. "It's ok, Sig. You have every right to be upset with me."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I get to take my anger out on you. I should have never accused you of not thinking of us and mentioning mom to make you feel bad about what you did. That was extremely wrong," Sig explained in a pained voice.

"But it's true, all of it. All of what you said is true. I wasn't thinking about you or Edgar or dad, even. I was being selfish. And I broke a promise I made to myself in the process," Norman hated himself for that. _I just made that promise two nights ago and I broke it already. What the hell is wrong with me?_ He continued, "As for mom, that's true, too. We have a different set of rules to live by now. That's no one's fault, it's just is how it is. We are all we have left and we need to take better care of each other and ourselves."

"So you are telling me you are not gonna to do something so stupid ever again?" Sig asked with a smile.

"Yes, nothing stupid like drinking and driving ever again," Norman promised him, knowing it would be a promise easily kept.

"You're not gonna like this part," Sig explained slowly, dreading the reaction, "But, I think there's no more drinking, period. For either of us, bro. The party is over, so to speak, till we are both 21 years old anyway."

Norman stared at his brother hard for a few minutes and thought this over. The two of them had had a lot of fun together over the years and got drunk on more that a few occasions. Now his brother was saying the fun was at an end and Norman already knew why.

"I get it. Have to set the right tone for the kid," Norman hung his head, wishing his 21st birthday was tomorrow instead of four long years away.

Sig sighed with relief. "And I can't do this alone, Norm. I need your help. It ain't right to ask of a 17 year old kid but I need you to support me and follow the same rules as your brother. Otherwise, he's gonna blow us both off and I need him to respect me or he'll run wild. He likes adventure too much."

Norman looked at his older brother and had to wonder how an 18 year old could handle all this responsibility and not feel resentful about it in the least. Sig wasn't just telling Norman to stop drinking; he was going to stop the party life himself, too. _Lead by example, big brother_. To make matters worse, Norman had just made matters worse with his decisions last night and he regretted what he did to his brothers, both of them.

"Fine," Norman begrudgingly admitted, "I'll follow ALL the damn rules. Man, you've grown up and learned a lot damn fast," Norman finished with a smile.

"Yeah, and I'm just stuck learning it on the fast track so that I can keep both my brothers alive this summer till our father comes home and takes back the control over this house," Sig explained with a sigh of resignation. Then he laughed, "I don't know how mom did it all these years."

Norman laughed too, "Yeah, we didn't make it easy for her." Then they both got quiet, disappointed in themselves for all the trouble they gave their mother, wishing hopelessly that they could have had one chance to tell her how sorry they were before she died.

Norman finally spoke, "Looks like I didn't make things easier for you, either, Sig. I'm sorry."

Sig just shrugged his shoulders and said, "It's ok, Norman. Comes with being born the oldest, I guess."

"And here I was always jealous I wasn't born first," Norman gave his brother a light shove.

Sig shoved him back and wished that things could just be normal between them right now. He loved this brother very much and meant what he said about Norman being his best friend. But there were other things that had to be discussed before the night was over. Sig tried to steer the conversation back to its intended purpose.

"So, you didn't get to ask me anything yet," Sig reminded Norman of the plan.

Norman sensed that this was Sig's way getting to the heart of their talk. Norman wasn't about to shy away from the consequences of his actions. He took a deep breath and asked, "Are you going to punish me?"

Sig looked his brother and took a deep breath himself. He then explained carefully, "I'll give you the same option Edgar got because that is only fair. Do you want me to handle this or dad to handle this when he gets back home? Either way, I'm telling him what happened, just so there are no misunderstandings between us."

Norman looked a little insulted and said, "Of course, I would never ask or expect you to lie to dad about this, ever."

"Sorry, Norman, I just wanted to make things clear. No insult intended." Sig said softly.

Norman nodded his head once firmly, understanding that his brother was not trying to demean him, just lay out all the cards on the table.

"I have no doubt Dad would come home and spank me with the strap. I know you got it right after you turned 17. You were grounded for something and got caught coming home at 2:00 in the morning after sneaking out of the house to be with…" Norman stopped himself dead.

Sig had gone to his long time girlfriend's house that night. Her name was Sara and Sig was madly in love with her. They had dated for three years. At the beginning of Sig's senior year, she broke his heart into pieces when he shared with her his intentions to make fishing his career. Sara left him flat, saying she wasn't going to be a wife to boat trash and started dating the captain of the baseball team.

Sig never talked about Sara after that, never even mentioned her name. Norman watched his brother walk the halls of their high school last year, avoiding Sara so he wouldn't have to see her making out with her new boyfriend, the one that was going to college and would have a nice, cushy desk job someday where he'd be home every night with his family. Besides a few meaningless one night stands, Sig hadn't been with another girl since Sara left him.

Norman watched the memory of that night float across his brother's face, followed by the pain that was plain to see in his eyes.

"Sorry, Sig," Norman whispered, "I forgot." Norman leaned over and touched his brother's knee.

Sig pulled away quickly, shutting down and not wanting to think about that night or any night with her. He did remember the night after he got caught and the strapping his father gave him before he left to go fishing the next day. It was the last time Sig found himself bent over the kitchen table.

"Yes, little brother, dad would definitely strap you for this when he gets back, 17 or not, you're still his kid," Sig said with a sad look.

"And if you punish me, how would you do it?" Norman asked seriously.

Sig looked into his little brother's blue eyes and got very sad. He said honestly, "17 or not, you're still my brother and you messed up. I'd revoke your driving privileges for two weeks, except to and from work, and…I'd give you a good spanking with the paddle." Sig wanted to throw up but he forced himself to continue, "I spanked Edgar for almost the exact same thing, putting his life at risk on that bike, so I'm sort of stuck with my own damn example. I'm sorry Norman."

Norman hadn't expected anything less than to be treated equally so he brushed off his brother's apology with a wave of his hand.

The mention of the paddle prompted the next expected round of questions. Sig shared the whole story, crying a little about the bad word he called his mother and asking for Norman's forgiveness, which Norman gave gladly. Norman explained after the story that he had not been at grand mom's house that day but was in the hospital with measles. Sig didn't remember that and Norman shared that mom was with him almost day and night, not sleeping most of the time and grand mom sent her home for a break. Sig realized his mother must have been very worried and stressed out that day but this didn't help to alleviate his guilt. In fact, it only made it worse.

"Next question," Sig asked, after reliving one of his most painful memories and hoping that would be the last time.

"Define good," Norman gulped.

"21 licks over your jeans," Sig was trying to keep the bile down in his throat.

Norman had to laugh. _Where does Sig come up with these off the wall numbers_? "Why 21?" Norman had to know.

"17 licks for each year of your life that you almost threw away last night and 4 for forgetting your family needs you. 21 total so you remember the legal drinking age. I just want you to know ahead of time that it's one lick more than any of us ever got." Sig answered the best he could. He was trying very, very hard to be honest with Norman so that he could make up his mind knowing all the consequences. But in truth, the licks would only number 12 hard, 5 with less intensity and 4 licks at the end that his brother would never forget, light as a feather.

"Who in the house ever got 20? It wasn't me, I know tha,t" Norman asked concerned.

"Do you remember when Edgar set the shed on fire at the end of last summer?" Sig asked.

"Ya, kinda. I wasn't home so I only heard a little about it from mom. I assumed the kid got spanked for it, though, cause he spent the day in his room. Poor kid, he can't keep himself away from fire. He's like a moth," Norman explained quietly.

Sig started to get a little teary eyed when he explained, "Edgar got spanked alright. I heard the whole thing from the basement. Please don't tell Edgar I know this. Dad gave Edgar 20 of the hardest licks I'd ever heard over just his boxers.

Norman's jaw dropped and he covered his mouth with his hand. He too got a little teary eyed. "That's too much, Sig. He was only 12," was all he could mutter out.

"I know," Sig whispered, "Sometimes dad could be really hard on us. I don't know if it was right or wrong but I know it made me a part of the man I am today. I just think this one time, dad went a little overboard. Maybe because he was angry, I don't know. Afterwards, I heard Edgar crying softly in his room. I went to his bedroom door but didn't have the courage to open it. Don't tell him that either, he thinks I was dad. I wanted to go in and hold him, comfort him and tell him how much I loved him, anything to make him feel better. Instead, I walked away and left him to suffer alone because I was too scared to show him how I felt."

"Not anymore," Norman touched his brother's knee and this time, Sig did not pull away.

"No, I'm not afraid anymore, Norman. Just so we are absolutely clear on this, I would show you the same amount of affection and compassion during your punishment that I showed Edgar, as long as you were ok with that. I don't want to make you uncomfortable if your not. I know you are not as big on affection from your brothers as Edgar is." Sig was being as honest as he could. He wasn't about to punish this brother any different than his other brother and would extend him every courtesy to help him get through it as long as Norman allowed it. He also did want Norman thinking Sig thought any less of him for wanting this punishment to be different that their father's method of doing things.

Norman pondered this for a time. Then he explained the best he could with a shoulder shrug and 'Whatever." Secretly, he desperately craved that kind of affection and compassion but that wasn't something guys talk about so he didn't know how to say it.

"How would do this? I think I'm too big to go over your lap, Sig," Norman prayed this would not be the selected position as he would have been completely humiliated.

"Yes, you are definitely too big for that. Also so you know, I put Edgar over my lap to help him feel secure and so that I could protect him. I wasn't trying to insult him." Sig was grateful he had the opportunity to explain that to Norman. He didn't want Norman to think Sig was treating their baby brother like, well, a baby.

"So how?" Norman was curious what big brother would decide on.

"I honestly don't know, Norm. I guess, whatever you are comfortable with," Sig hadn't come up with a solution for this problem so he'd leave it up to Norman to decide.

Norman only nodded his head at this, not wanting to think about it at the moment.

"I have a few more questions for you, little brother" Sig said.

"Shoot," Norman looked up into very worried blue eyes.

Sig started wringing his hands between his knees. "You know how hard this is for me, right?"

Norman responded quickly, "Yes, I of all people know how hard this is for you. I heard you cry yourself to sleep the night you spanked Edgar."

Sig's eyes got very wide but he didn't confirm or deny this information.

"Listen, there will be no crying from you tonight, big brother. You're not going to torture yourself about it the next day either," Norman said firmly, finger pointed in Sig's direction.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Norm, but those things are going to happen whether you like it or not," Sig responded just as firmly, arms folded across his chest.

"Sig, please don't…"

Sig stood up and turned around and started pacing, "No, Norman, you don't understand what it is like so please don't tell me how to feel or react. It fucking kills me inside to hurt you or Edgar. I don't know a better way to explain it. It feels like my heart is breaking the whole fucking time." Sig felt the tears filling up in his eyes and he had to forced them back down.

Norman saw the tears forming in his brother's eyes and his hands start to shake, his own heart starting to break.

"I'm sorry, Sig, that I said that but I do know how it feels to hurt your family. I know how much it hurts inside because I'm hurting pretty bad right now and I'd love very much to get this over with," Norman shared.

"So…me or dad?" Sig finally whispered, hanging his head and just wanting to get this over with. He was certain his brother would not want to wait six weeks for this punishment to be handed out.

Norman took a deep breath. He wanted to know what punishment was like when it was done with patience and compassion and understanding and this was likely his one and only chance. Also, the guilt was eating him alive and he just wanted to feel better.

But those were selfish reasons and he was reminded of the promise he made to himself. Norman sat there and watched his brother's hands shaking and the tears Sig was trying to hide. And Norman made the hardest choice he ever made. _I love you, too, bro but I'm just not good at telling you. Maybe I'll get better at it. For now, just let me show you._

"Dad."

Sig head shot up in complete shock. "Norman, he'll strap you. The paddle hurts but not as bad and I would be very careful. I'd never really hurt you. And I'm not mad or angry. Now you'll have to wait so long with that hanging over your head all summer. Are you really sure?"

"Nothing I have been through before, Sig," Norman said as stood up and got up to get a blank piece of paper and pen out of the kitchen drawer. Then he sat back down and wrote his name in big letters at the top of the paper. He didn't leave room for Edgar's name as he knew Edgar would never make this choice – the kid was too anxious to wait and he would pick Sig's method over their father's any day of the week. Hopefully, the kid would keep himself out of trouble this summer and no one would have to worry about anything.

Then Norman wrote under his name in INK:

**Left the house without letting my brother know where I was going, drank dad's whiskey that I stole from his room, drank alone in a dangerous place, drove home drunk, let my older brother down, frightened and confused my younger brother. Forgot about how important my family is to me and that my family needs me.**

Norman was crying by the time he wrote the word "older" but he managed to keep writing through the blurry vision. When he was finished, he looked up at Sig and he handed over "The List" with quite a lot of ink on it. Norman then whispered in a broken voice, "I know I didn't earn it yet and I have no right to ask but it would mean a lot to me if you could forgive me now and not make me wait six…"

Sig dropped "The List" on the table and pulled his brother into his arms in less than three seconds. "Norman, I forgave you the minute I locked the kitchen door last night," he whispered. Norman cried on his older brother's shoulder for the third time in under 24 hours, a record. Sig just held him tight and asked him one last time, "Please, Norman, are you sure? Please don't do this to spare me."

Norman was firm in his resolve. He could never put his brother through something like that. His relationship with Sig was very different than Edgar's relationship with their oldest brother. Norman and Sig were more like equals and he just couldn't do this to his best friend, although he would give Sig the respect he had certainly earned. This was just something that was going to be his father's responsibility to handle. "It's ok, Sig. Maybe things will be different with dad this time, like maybe this will be a chance for him to redeem himself."

"Don't talk yourself into thinking Dad's gonna change, Norman. You might be disappointed," Sig warned sadly, not wanting to give his brother false hope.

"I guess I'm just going to have to just find out," Norman buried his face in Sig's neck and gave him one last squeeze. Then he detached himself from his brother, took "The List" off the table and hung it on the refrigerator. Without turning around he said, "Thank you for the choice and for sharing all that stuff, I know it hurts to talk about it. I won't tell the kid what you told me, that's between us. I'm gonna read in my room a while. Remind the kid to come talk to me about his night when he gets home, will ya?" And with that Norman left the kitchen, not once glancing at the pantry door.

Sig watched Norman leave and waited to hear his bedroom door shut. Sig then snuck out to the garage and shut the door behind him. He sat on the garage floor, thinking for a fleeting second, _you've got to be kidding me_, and then put his hands over his face to drown out the screaming. He screamed into his hands, cried and rocked back and forth, trying to calm himself down because there was no one there to comfort him.

As difficult as it would have been for him, he would have punished his brother and been there for him after it was over. Instead, his brother made the sacrifice to forgo his own quick relief so that Sig wouldn't have to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. It was an overwhelming act of love.

To be continued…


	16. Acceptance

It was getting close to 9:00 and Sig had managed to pull himself off the garage floor after about an hour and tried to get some things accomplished, after having a cigarette or two on the back porch, watching the rain pour off roof. He then sat down at the kitchen table and paid some bills with blank checks his father signed before he left. Sig also paid his own car insurance bill from his own personal checking account. After awhile, he lost focus and just sat and listened to the rain pattering against the kitchen window. He had purposely sat at the table with his back to the refrigerator, "The List" magnetized to the door behind him.

Edgar was going to take this hard, Sig already knew, and was ready for the reaction. He waited and closed his eyes, just listening to the rain and thinking about how much he just wanted his mother to come walking through the living room, on her way to the kitchen stove to make herself her nightly cup of tea. _Oh, mom, I don't know what the hell I am doing. I'm trying to follow your example and dad's example and my own example but none of them are easy and I am just trying to do the best I can. Please don't be angry with me. I just want to make you proud and keep your sons safe, self included._

Sig was startled by the sound of a car splashing the puddles in the driveway and he heard a car door open and close quickly. The car pulled away and he heard footsteps running through the raindrops. A second later, a dark, green-eyed, 13 year old came through the door, his shaggy light brown hair damp from the rain. Sig sighed and put on his best smile.

"Did you have a good time?" Sig asked brightly.

Edgar shook himself like a dog, rain droplets flying into the welcome mat and took off his shoes. He was looking down at what he was doing, trying to get each shoe off without having to untie the laces. "Yeah, it was a lot of fun. The movie was awesome. It was about this kid that moves to a new town and these big guys at school are mean to him and beat him up and this really nice old Japanese guy, he was totally cool by the way, teaches him karate so that he can…"

Sig watched Edgar finally look up at him and smile while reliving the story. Then he watched his brother's eyes drift past him to the left and stop when they hit the refrigerator door. Sig said nothing as he watched Edgar squint, a look of confusion cross his face as he slowly made his way around the kitchen table. Sig turned in his chair and watched his youngest brother approach the refrigerator door and stop. He watched Edgar use his right index finger to guide him over the words slowly.

It took a long time. _I have to help this kid with his reading or he'll never make it through high school_. Sig watch his little brother's hand start to tremble as his finger grazed over the words **frightened and confused my younger brother** and he waited patiently for Edgar to finish reading Norman's god-awful handwriting, handwriting the kid surely recognized. Sig waited for the look that would surely break his heart.

Edgar turned towards his oldest brother, eyes already full of tears and shook his head slowly from side to side. "Why?" was all he could get out in a broken whisper.

"It was Norman decision. We have to respect it," Sig said quietly.

Edgar just stood there, stunned and confused, and the tears started to flow. Sig spread his knees apart and motioned for his brother to come over and sit with to him. Edgar gladly came and sat on his brother's thigh, his feet on the floor and put his arms around Sig's neck. He rested his forehead against his brother's cheek and cried silently, not making a sound in the process. Sig rubbed his back and waited for the questions.

Finally, Edgar whispered, "Did I make the wrong decision when I had the choice, Sig?"

Sig wiped the tears off his brother's face and told him honestly, "I respect the decision you made as much as the one Norman made. You both had to face a very difficult question and I know in my heart, you both made the choice that was right for each of you. I respect you both very much. Please don't think that Norman didn't respect your decision either just because he made a different one. I know that he respects and understands why you made the choice you did. Norman wants things handled different, _mostly for my sake which kills me_, and we have to be ok with it."

Edgar was quiet for awhile. Then he asked, "Norman knew how you would…"

"Yes, Edgar, he made a fully informed decision," Sig already knew where his brother's question was headed.

"Is dad gonna…" Edgar asked but again was interrupted.

"Most likely, yes," Sig had to be honest, although he really would have liked to lie on that one.

Edgar buried his face in his brother neck and whispered, "Sig, I don't know how you are gonna take this but…I…don't want to… go on "The List" this summer. I mean if I did something to earn it, which I am NOT planning on doing, I don't think I could ever make the same decision Norman did. That is, if I got the choice."

"Edgar, I'm very glad you told me this because this is something we do need to talk about," Sig informed his brother and pulled his face away from his neck so that Sig could look him in the eye. "I hear what you are saying and I promise you that if you do something "List" worthy, I will handle it myself, no matter how hard it is for both of us."

"But you gotta understand…" Sig put his hand under Edgar's chin and stared him hard in the eyes. "…after this summer, when dad gets home, he IS the boss, no questions asked. Dad is the man of the house again and that is something we ALL have to respect, whether we like it or not. He's our father and he loves us. He would never really hurt us and he keeps us in line in his own way. It's not for us to decide. Do you understand me?"

Edgar heard his brother's words and understood everything Sig told him. Their father was person Edgar would ultimately answer too for a long time, long after Sig and Norman left the house and moved away. It was how it should be and Edgar resigned himself to the reality of the next four or five years of his life. He knew he wasn't going to be a perfect angel. If it was hereditary, he was doomed to a teenage life of occasional mischief.

Sadly, those years would be spent without his brothers around most of the time. _At least the two of them had each other growing up_. Edgar started to feel alone again but he pushed it aside. "Yes, I understand and I respect our father. Always have, always will. Everything goes back too the way it was when he gets back. I would never expect it to be different just because mom is gone and dad was lost for awhile and then had to go away."

"I'll always be around or just a phone call away. I won't tell you to stay out of trouble for the rest of your childhood because I'd be wasting my breath," Sig gave him a big smile.

Edgar gave his brother a big smile back.

"Ok?" Sig asked

"Yeah, you ok?" Edgar asked.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Oh, Norman asked me to remind you to go and talk to him when you got home. He wants to hear about your night…" Sig nudged his little brother "…and maybe a pretty little blond girl that might have been at the movies after all."

Edgar laughed. "She was there."

Sig raised an eyebrow. Edgar kept quiet. _A gentleman never kisses and tells._

To be continued…

**Just a short, fluffy chapter. Longer chapter tomorrow or the next. Sadly, Edgar's "friends" from The Shack are about to make a house call in the near future and our youngest Hansen is home by himself when they do. **


	17. In A Sea Near You

Edgar laid in his bed that night, staring up at his ceiling and listening to the storm outside. The soft rain had turned into a strong summer thunderstorm that continued to rage on without stopping. He watched the lighting illuminate his room every few seconds and the rumbles of thunder, some of which were so strong they shook the house.

Edgar had remembered to thank Sig for the money and returned the leftover change from the movie ticket. Sig had looked at him a little surprised by the amount of change he got back. Edgar had refused to treat himself to popcorn, soda, video games and the like because he felt that this was money he hadn't really earned. He had done nothing to help around the house this past week, with the exception of mowing the lawn and cleaning the kitchen. For the past week, he pretty much blew off every chore he had when he was hanging out at "The Shack" and getting into a lot of trouble so he felt guilty spending the money Sig worked so hard to get.

Before he went to bed, Edgar stopped in Norman's bedroom and talked to him about his night, told him about the movie and all the stupid things Matt did to get some girl's attention. Edgar did share the blond girl was indeed at the theater and that the two of them talked for awhile after the show was over. Norman asked sarcastically what "talking" meant but Edgar didn't elaborate.

Both of them completely avoided the topic of what was hanging on the refrigerator door. They talked for a little while, Edgar thanking Norman for taking him to the hardware store and Norman praising his brother for the good job he did and that he would like to take him again tomorrow. Edgar was beyond thrilled. They said goodnight and Edgar left, wanting to tell Norman that he loved him but didn't.

Old habits die hard and as Edgar lay in bed, he regretted now not saying it. _How often can I tell my brothers I love them and it be ok cause if it were up to me, I'd tell them that everyday. I'd like to hear it everyday, too. I love them so much and I'd be lost without them_. _But I will be without them soon enough. They'll go away fishing and I'll be alone. _

Edgar thought carefully about this. He wouldn't be alone, he'd have his father. He missed his father, at least he missed the way he use to be before mom died. Dad was quiet and reserved but he always took time to teach his son's all kinds of things. Edgar remembered when their father came home one night carrying a giant Christmas tree still full of snow into the house. Mom had a fit, saying the snow was melting into the carpet and making stains but Dad put it up anyway, just like it was. Edgar missed seeing his father reading the newspaper in the morning and when he used to take them to see the boats coming into the harbor when they were little. Dad loved boats and knew everything there was to know about them. He was the most amazing captain and really could get the boat through any storm. Edgar loved hanging out on the boat when his dad was home, learning how the engine worked and how to fix things.

Edgar fell asleep missing his father for the first time since he left. Edgar heard the words, Love You All and he realized that his father knew he had all three of his sons listening on the phone. _I had been horrible, gotten into so much trouble and had to have my brother punish me so that I'd come to my senses. But my dad still told me he loved me, he said All, not both or you. That meant me. I miss you, dad_.

Sometime in the night, thoughts of their father came back in one of the most violent, realistic nightmares Edgar ever had. He watched in horror as his father's boat, the F/V Northwestern, struggled to stay afloat in a massive storm. It was dark and the seas were extremely rough, high waves and wiping wind battered the boat around like a spinning top. Finally, the boat was hit broadside by a massive rouge wave and capsized, all the men on board thrown into the cold, watery darkness. As Edgar watched the beautiful white boat slip under the water, he heard his father calling for him, yelling his name and screaming as he drowned. Edgar tried to answer back, screaming for his father, begging his forgiveness for his bad behaviors and realizing how much he loved his dad and needed him to come home.

* * *

Sig awoke out of a dead sleep to the awful sounds of screaming coming from Edgar's room. It took him a second for his brain to register what was happening and then he heard his youngest brother's voice screaming out in horror but couldn't make out what he was saying.

Sig was out of his bed and flying down the hallway when he crashed in Norman, almost knocking him over. Sig didn't look to check if Norm was ok because he was only focused on his youngest brother at the time. Sig flew open Edgar's bedroom door and found him thrashing around violent under the covers, ripping at his pillow and just screaming one word over, over and over again, "DADDY."

Sig froze at the name and he felt his heart being squeezed like a vice. He couldn't move for a second and then ran over to the bed and grabbed his brother's hands and tried yanking him out from the covers. Sig tried to get him out of bed but Edgar fought wildly, screaming for their father as he watched him slip under the water and trying desperately to save him. The kid was strong and was trying to punch and kick away whoever it was that was stopping him from getting to his dad.

Norman ran into the bedroom and flipped on the overhead light. He saw the struggle before him, his youngest brother still lost in the nightmare and his oldest fighting to get him out of it. It was one of the most frightening things he had ever seen. And the word "Daddy" over and over was like a knife to his heart. Norman ran to the end of the bed and held down Edgar's legs so Sig only had to focus on the flying punches that were hurdled in his direction.

Sig was stunned at how strong his littlest brother was but managed to hold on to his hands. He started shaking his brother and calling his name, "Edgar, look at me. It's only a dream. It's only a dream. Wake up. Open your eyes, God damn it. Listen to me."

Somewhere in the darkness, Edgar heard his oldest brother's voice and he wanted to run to it. He came out of the dream, opened his eyes and was lost and confused. He was in his bedroom, not the middle of the raging seas and his brothers were with him, trying to hold him down. He stopped fighting and looked up into his worried brother's blue eyes.

"I saw dad. He drowned, Sig. There was a storm and the boat sank and…he drowned." Edgar burst out into tears.

Sig lifted his little brother up into a sitting position and pulled him close to his chest, wrapping both arms around him. "It was just a dream, kid. Its ok, Ed. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you." Sig whispered softly, rubbing his brother's back gently and trying to calm him. Sig spoke his soft words in Norwegian, knowing how much Edgar liked it when mom would speak to him in her native language. It always made whatever she was saying sound like a love song and it had the most incredibly soothing sound.

Norman let go of Edgar's legs with a sigh of relief. _How does Sig do it? It's like he has a magic touch with this kid_. Norman couldn't ignore the little bit of jealousy creeping up inside him and admitted it wasn't the first time in the last few days. His brothers had developed some kind of deep bond that he wasn't a part of and it hurt a little to be left out in the cold. Norman lay down in the bed on his side, bent his elbow and rested his head in his hand. He wanted to comfort the kid, too, but Sig seemed to be able to handle everything on his own so Norman just watched, feeling like an outsider.

Edgar was having a hard time calming down, crying hot tears and saying, "No, it's not ok, Sig. What if something happened to dad? What if the boat…?"

"Hey, now, you know the rule. We don't even say that kind of stuff out loud, kid. Dad and the boat will be just fine," Sig said firmly and like a chorographic routine, the Sig and Edgar leaned over and knocked on the wooden nightstand three times, Norman reaching up and knocking on the wooden headboard. A long standing superstition to scare away the evil spirits was honored.

"I know," Edgar whispered through his tears, "I just miss him."

It wasn't humanly possible for Sig to identify with those words anymore than he already did. Sig missed his father terribly but here was a young kid in his arms that had recently lost his mother and desperately need his father, more than Sig or Norman did combined. "We all do, Edgar," Sig whispered back in Norwegian, "He'll be back before we know it."

Norman laughed and responded in Norwegian, "Now you really sound like mom. How many times did she say that over the years?"

"A million!" Edgar laughed a little, finishing the conversation in their second language. He was starting to feel better. It was just a dream and he had faith that God would protect his father and bring him home safely. He hugged Sig tightly for a few minutes, just soaking up the affection that he missed so much and then laid back down in his bed.

"You OK? You want me to stay with you for awhile, until you fall asleep?" Sig asked gently, finally switching back to English.

Edgar thought about his regret for saying nothing to Norman when he left his room that night. Poor Norman had had an awful night but he still listened to Edgar reliving his great night and genuinely seemed happy for him. _Why couldn't I just tell him I loved him?_ _Maybe nightmares are can be signs, too_

"Can Norman stay with me for a little?" Edgar asked Sig in an embarrassed voice, eyeing Norman out of the corner of his eye.

Norman looked calm, even gave off a nonchalant appearance but inside, his heart was soaring. _He wants ME to stay. ME. Not Sig, ME. What the hell am I so jealous about_?

"If Norman is ok with that, sure, kid," Sig answered and looked over at their middle brother. Sig tried to hide the smile that graced his lips when he saw his younger brother's face. Edgar wouldn't have noticed it but Sig did, maybe because he and Norman knew each other too well. Norman was trying to act cool but his cheeks were slightly flushed red and he had a pleased glimmer in his eye. _See, he loves and needs you too, shithead. Don't be so fucking stupid, driving around drunk, because this kid needs you as much as we need him. _

"Norman is very ok with that!" Norman said and literally pushed Sig off the bed and onto the floor for staring at him funny. Sig reached up from the floor and pulled Norman off the bed in one swoop. This prompted a wrestling match between the two of them, Edgar joining in to give Sig a hand because Norman was pretty strong for his size. Norman went to punch his older brother but Sig ducked and got out of the room before Norman had a chance to catch him. Sig hollered "Goodnight and don't make me come in there and separate you two," as he walked down the hallway. Norman and Edgar burst out laughing on the floor because Sig sounded exactly like their father.

When they were done laughing, Norman stood up and literally scoop his little brother up over his shoulder and held him there like he weighed nothing, feet and arms dangling in the air. Edgar was laughing and trying to squirm away. It was pointless. Norman had biceps on his biceps. Norman turned off the light and dropped his brother down on the bed, crawling in next to him and gathering him into his arms.

It felt incredibly good to feel like he was protecting him from the demons and the storms raging outside. A loud crack of thunder filled the air and rattled the window. Edgar jumped a little and Norman held him closer. They listened to the rain batter the house and both prayed their father wasn't caught in the same storm earlier that day before it made landfall.

As it got quiet, Norman whispered softly, "Ed?"

"Yeah?" was the sleepy response.

"Why me?" was the question.

"Cause I love you," was the answer.

**A/N: Sorry, another fluffy chapter but so many bad things are about to happen to these guys that I just couldn't help myself. Poor Edgar is going to find himself in a ton of trouble and my poor Sig is going to be forced to handle difficult situations, not having any idea how much danger the family is really in. **

**Please review**


	18. Warnings

**Reviews have gotten quiet - anyone still out there? **

**This chapter contains references to spankings - please don't read if that offends.**

* * *

The next few days were good ones for all three brothers. Their lives had taken on a new kind of normalcy and there was peace in the house. All three of them managed to make it several full days without any tears and they finally started to enjoy their summer.

Tuesday morning was pleasant and sunny, the storm a long gone memory. Edgar made breakfast for the three of them and it actually turned out pretty good. He figured he couldn't mess up cinnamon toast and cereal all that much. He was also a little embarrassed having someone sleep with him after having a nightmare. He apologized to his brothers for waking them up and for being a "baby." Sig and Norman sat down at the kitchen table and gently explained to their youngest brother that they both had the same kind of nightmares about dad many times before. They all agreed something like that just came with being the children of off-shore fishermen.

No doubt the children of soldiers, firemen and police officers all had similar nightmares at some point, too. Sig and Norman made it a point to sooth Edgar's pride and make him feel ok with asking for comfort if he needed it, for any reason. Edgar tried to play it off that he'd be fine but inside he felt a deep feeling of security hearing those words.

Upon getting breakfast ready, Edgar had to open the refrigerator door and came face to face with "The List." Edgar asked sheepishly if the piece of paper could be taken down and put in a drawer or something so they didn't have to look at it all summer. Sig thought this was a wonderful idea and got up to remove "The List" but Norman stopped him. Norman explained in no uncertain terms that "The List" was staying exactly were it was for the entire summer.

"She would have left it there," Norman said with meaning, "It stays. That's the end of it."

That was the last discussion the three of them had about removing "The List."

For the next three days, Edgar went to work with Norman and helped him around the store as much as possible. In the evenings, the three of them had dinner and talked about lots of things. They started talking about mom a little more and planned to go visit her grave again this Sunday.

After dinner, Norman finished working on Edgar's motor bike, finally declaring Wednesday night that it was finished. Edgar gave his brother a big hug and whispered in his ear that he could never thank him enough. Norman brushed off the gratitude by explaining to Edgar that it was a battle he truly enjoyed, laughing inside at the new and improved bike and feeling like he won the war. Sig and Edgar continued playing poker in the evenings, this becoming like a nighttime ritual. Edgar had gotten very good at reading the cards and playing his odds and Sig was worried he created a monster.

On Thursday night, Norman went out with his girlfriend and Edgar was invited to Matt's house for a few hours. Sig was glad that his younger brothers had plans because he had to work late on Thursday night. Norman dropped Edgar off at Matt's and went over to his girlfriend's house to pick her up and take her out to dinner. Things seemed blissful, peaceful and perfect.

Someone should have knocked on wood.

* * *

Edgar had dinner with Matt and his older brother, Nick. Nick was 21 years old and in his last year of college. He was a good guy, tall like Sig and took care of the family since their parents divorced and their mother worked long nights at the local diner. After dinner, Matt and Edgar went out to the backyard and tossed around the football. The summer evening was beautiful, not too hot and a northwestern breeze was drifting across the yard.

When they got bored, Matt pulled Edgar over to the side of the house, suddenly acting very strange and secretive. "What the hell are you up too?" Edgar asked his friend, wondering why Matt was acting so weird and what they were doing hiding around the side of house.

Matt pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, taking one for himself and giving one to Edgar. "Here," he said, lighting his smoke, "I swiped them from my brother. He'd kill me if he found out." Matt kept looking around to the back of the house. He handed the lighter to Edgar.

Edgar had smoked before when he was hanging out with the wrong crowd and cutting school. He loved the relaxed feeling the smoking gave him and it had been awhile since he had one. He figured he had had enough stress over the last few days and indulged himself in this one little treat. He refused to let himself think about anything else. Edgar lit his cigarette, inhaling the soothing feeling and blowing out the smoke into the air.

The two boys were about halfway done their cigarettes when Nick suddenly came around the side of the house, a trash bag in his hands. "Matthew James, what are you doing?" Nick yelled when he saw them. He dropped the trash bag off into the garbage can and approached his brother angrily.

Matt jumped at his brother's voice and threw the cigarette on the ground, hiding it with his foot. Edgar followed suit but the smell and the smoke lingered in the summertime air.

Nick walked up to his little brother and grabbed him by the arm, "Where'd you get the cigarettes?"

Matt floundered for an answer.

Nick shook him hard, "Don't you dare lie to me"

Matt looked up at his brother with scared and shameful eyes. He couldn't lie. "I…stole them…from your room."

Nick's shoulders slumped and he grew quiet. "Oh, Matty, why…why did ya do that?" Nick asked sadly.

Matt looked like he was going to cry right in front of his friend. He didn't have a good answer to give his brother so he just shrugged his shoulders. Nick couldn't look at his little brother anymore and turned to Edgar. Edgar looked shocked and scared himself. He started rubbing at his face and had a hard time looking Nick in the eye.

"Sig know you've been smoking?' Nick gave Edgar a hard look.

"No," Edgar shook his head slowly. _But I bet he's about to find out. Shit, things have been so good. Why did I screw it up?_

Nick sighed deeply, giving Edgar a sad look. "Come on, I'll drive you home." Nick then turned to his brother. "You get your butt in the house and don't go anywhere. You and I are going to have a talk when I get back," Nick said sternly. Matt bowed his head, knowing exactly what his brother meant by "a talk." Nick had been handling the discipline in their home since their father left and he didn't mess around when it came to his younger brother causing trouble.

Matt wisely proceeded into the house, telling Edgar he was sorry and that he hoped Edgar didn't have any hard feelings. Edgar told him he didn't. After Matt went in the house, Edgar got in Nick's car and Nick drove him home. The ten blocks seemed like fifty. Edgar stayed quiet the entire ride, silently cursing himself for being so freaking stupid. _What was I thinking?_

When they got to Edgar's house, Nick pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. Edgar went to get out but Nick put his hand on Edgar's forearm, stopping him. He turned and said sadly, "I'm sorry Edgar but I have to tell your brother. Wouldn't be right not too."

"It's ok. I know," Edgar said quietly, not expecting anything less. He looked Nick in the eye and added, "I'm sorry I got in trouble at your house."

"I know you are. You're a good, kid, Edgar. Matty is too but stuff happens, you know? Come on, I'll walk you in," Nick said, ruffling Edgar's hair and they both got out of the car.

Edgar followed behind Nick and then got in front of him when they reached the back porch. Edgar could already see his oldest brother through the screen door. He was sitting at the kitchen table, eating take out dinner alone. Sig had worked late, still sitting there in his work clothes and he looked worn out and tired.

Something about seeing his oldest brother sitting there by himself made Edgar's heart clench. _He should be out with his friends, having fun and hitting on girls. Not running the house, working all day and taking care of me. I am such a burden to him. And I keep making his life worse_. Finally, with Nick's presence behind him, Edgar took a deep breath and walked in. Nick motioned that he would wait on the porch. Apparently, this was going to be a discussion between one oldest brother to another and no one else.

Sig hadn't heard the footsteps on the porch and was a little startled by the click of the screen door. He watched his youngest brother walk in and stop.

"Hey, you're home early," Sig said with a smile, mouth full of hamburger and fries.

"Yeah," Edgar said softly, looking at his brother with a woeful expression "Nick wants to talk to you. He's waiting on the porch."

Sig saw his little brother's face and read his expression immediately. _Oh, shit, this can't be good_. Sig had to force his mouth full of food down his throat because suddenly he didn't feel hungry anymore. Without looking at Edgar, he stood up and walked over to the counter, wiping off his hands and face with a towel. He saw Nick out the kitchen window. The guy had his head down and was looking embarrassed. _Better not keep him waiting_.

Sig walked past his brother and, on the way by him, stopped and whispered down to him, "Do I want to know what this is about?"

"No," was the small reply.

Sig gave Edgar a look that made Edgar wanted to melt into the floor, just like the witch in that movie. Then Sig went on to the porch and greeted Nick.

Edgar listened to their conversation from the kitchen window, standing there in the middle of the floor, rubbing his cheek furiously. He wanted to run and hide in his room but something made him stop. If his oldest brother could face his responsibilities head on, then so could he.

Nick explained that he had caught Edgar and Matt smoking at the house and that Matt had stole his cigarettes. Sig was quiet for a minute, then apologized for his brother's behavior and offered Nick a replacement cigarette for the one Edgar took. Nick refused the offer. He told Sig that he didn't have to apologize, that he was one that should apologize for his own brother's behavior and assured Sig that Matt would be receiving some hefty consequences when he got home. Sig thanked Nick for telling him what happened and bringing Edgar home. Both guys shook hands and Nick left, his car backing out of the driveway.

Edgar waited in the kitchen, knowing his brother would want to talk to him about what happened. He looked over at "The List" on the refrigerator. _Norman_. _If Sig doesn't kill me, my other brother surely will_. Edgar thought about how much Norman hated smoking and Edgar started to feel a little sick.

Sig watched Nick's car pull down the street and then sat down heavily on the porch steps. He could sense his little brother listened in on the conversation and was waiting for him. Still, he needed a minute or two. _I expected this at some point so why am I not ready for it? Edgar is too anxious a kid not to try this eventually. Now, I have to talk to my littlest brother about why smoking is bad for you knowing full well that I started smoking when I was his age. Does this not make me the biggest hypocrite in the world? Jesus, this parenting stuff is so freaking hard. How do people do it? Does the ole' 'Do as I say, not as I do' phrase really seem fair? No, I just have to be honest with Edgar. Patient, honest and…firm."_

"Edgar," Sig called softly from the porch, "Come out here for a minute."

Edgar was expecting it but his stomach still did a flip flop when he heard his brother's command. He did noticed that Sig didn't sound angry or mad but just 'in charge' and Edgar sensed wisely this was going to be a "yes, sir…no, sir" type of conversation instead of their usual brotherly style of communication. He found it strangely helpful that one look or a certain tone from his oldest brother could inform him what role the two of them were in so there was no confusion or misunderstanding.

As much as he wanted to hesitate, Edgar raised his head high and walked out onto the back porch. Sig was sitting on the back step, his back to him. Edgar figured Sig would want to look him in the eye when he was speaking to him and expect the same in return so Edgar walked down the steps and off the porch. He turned respectfully, looked at Sig with sad eyes and waited for his brother to address him.

Instead, Sig gently reached up and grasped him by the arm, pulling him down to sit right next to him on the porch steps. Edgar sat down next to his brother, putting a little distance between them and waited.

Any passerby seeing the two of them sitting there would have known without a doubt they were brothers. Both of them sat next to each other on the step exactly the same; knees apart, hands folded in front of them, leaning on their right elbows, head cocked to the same side and staring at their feet. Despite the hair and eye color differences, they were unmistakably brothers. One older, taller, broader brother and one younger, shorter, lanky brother sat quietly, enjoying the lovely summer evening.

Sig sighed and turned to his brother finally after a few minutes. "Edgar, please look at me when I say this," he began.

Edgar turned his head and looked into his brother's cobalt blue eyes with his full attention.

Sig reached out and cupped him lightly under his chin. He said softly, "Please just be honest with me. Don't lie. Other than putting yourself in danger or disobeying me, nothing hurts me more than when you lie to me."

Sig's eyes were so full of pain that Edgar dropped his own eyes to the ground.

"No," Sig lifted his chin, forcing his brother to look at him, "Don't be afraid or ashamed to talk to me and tell me the truth… ever, Edgar. Do you understand me?" Sig nodded slightly, trying to encourage his brother and conveying that he wasn't mad.

Edgar kept his eye contact and responded clearly, "Yes, sir."

Sig removed his hand from his brother's chin but maintained his gaze. "How long have you been smoking?"

"A few months," Edgar answered honestly, "It's been a while since I had one, though."

Sig knew the truth when he heard it and he nodded. "How did it start?"

"When I started cutting school, I'd go hang out with some of those older guys that hung out at the Shack. They smoked and I thought it looked cool so I tried it," Edgar explained the best he could.

_Oh, that hurts_, Sig said to himself. He ignored his own thoughts and continued. "Why did you keep doing it?" he asked with purpose. Sig was trying to determine if his brother was addicted yet or if he could stop easily.

Edgar shrugged, "I don't know, Sig. It's kinda relaxing when I'm really nervous or if I'm bored and got nothing else to do."

_Double hurt, same reasons as me, great_. Sig again pushed his thoughts down. "How long can you go without one, honestly?" he asked his brother.

"I don't really need to have one, you know? I don't think about having one at all. It was just…something to do…like to fit in or something. Does that make sense to you?" Edgar asked his brother with a quizzical look on his face.

Sig sighed in relief and nodded. _It was early yet and the kid could quit without painful withdrawal_. Sig asked the next logical question, "Why did you smoke today with Matt, then?"

Edgar looked like he honestly didn't know and had to take a minute and think about it. Finally, the only reason he could come up with was, "I was bored, I guess."

"Bored teenagers often run into trouble," Sig grumbled a little and lost Edgar's eye contact for the first time. Sig needed to get it back quickly so he touched his little brother gently on his knee and rubbed the fabric of his jeans. "Sorry, I didn't mean to put you down, Edgar," he said quietly.

Edgar raised his eyes back to his brother and just smiled a little. 'No, you're right. I knew better," he said with resignation.

"Edgar, did you know Matt stole those cigarettes from his brother when you took one?" Sig asked hesitatingly.

Edgar knew this was one of the harder questions he was going to be asked. _Nothing hurts me more than when you lie to me,_ his brother's words rung in his head. Edgar looked hard into Sig's eyes and straightened his shoulders a little when he said, "Yes, sir, I knew."

_Damn it, kid, I know you know that was wrong_ was what Sig wanted to say. What came out instead was, "Thank you, Edgar, very much, for being honest with me and telling me the truth. It means the world to me," and it came directly from his heart.

Edgar saw how much his brother meant that and he felt his chest tighten. _I'm in trouble. I screwed up. And he is praising me. It's too much, Sig. I don't deserve it. Why are you so good to me? _

Sig sighed and started wringing his hands in front of him. "But I have to punish you for this, Edgar."

"I know, Sig. I know I did something wrong and I know that there are consequences for my actions," Edgar said quietly, finally losing eye contact between them and bowed his head.

"Ok, here's how this is going to go. I'm going to punish you, lecture you and end this conversation with a warning," Sig said, looking at the top of his brother's head.

Edgar was now very confused by the upcoming order of events. He figured he would find himself bent over his brother knee, taking a hearty dose of stinging swats to his backside before the night was out so he was taken aback by that event coming before the lecture. He guessed the lecturing part always came before the spanking, at least that's what his friends told him over the years since he never got any lectures before, during or after his father handled things.

Maybe Sig wanted him to take the lecture standing there with his backside on fire, maybe that was part of the punishment. The only thing that did make sense was the warning part. That did seem to be placed correctly at the end of the order of events, either at the tale end of the spanking or right after.

Sig went on to explain, "I'm going to punish you first because this is one lecture I actually need you to listen too and I don't want you worrying about what's going to happen afterwards. Edgar, I need you to look at me again."

Edgar raised his eyes. Sig gave him a sad look but said firmly, "You're grounded tomorrow, no hardware store, no going anywhere all day or night and there will be a list of chores for you on the kitchen table when you wake up. Am I understood?"

Edgar was stunned, "Yes, I understand but…" He stopped and then whispered, "You're not gonna to spank me?"

"No, kid. Not for this. Only the big offenses, remember?" Sig said with a smile, putting his arm around his little brother and pulling him into his side. Poor kid looked so damn worried and Sig was gratefully that he had already determined this behavior didn't warrant that level of discipline.

Yet, his brother was still honest with him, thinking that was going to be the end result. _Kid's got guts, man. You are one brave kid, little brother_. "But you can't take something from someone that you know was gotten dishonestly. You could get in a lot of trouble in life doing something like that. That's why I am grounding you. I know you love the hardware store and I'm sorry for taking it from you but the punishment's got to hurt some to be remembered for next time. Got it?"

Edgar literally cuddled against his big brother's side, rubbing his cheek against his brother's work shirt and feeling safe with his arm around him. Edgar would have accepted the spanking without complaint but he was glad neither one of them had to go through that and he understood his brother's decision. The grounding was a painful punishment, even if it was only one day, because he loved the hardware store so much. And he was sure the list of chores on the kitchen table would be lengthy.

"I got it," Edgar said softly. Then he whispered to his brother in a sad voice, "I think Matty's gonna get a licking. He told me once Nick sometimes…takes his belt off." Edgar whispered the last part so quietly, Sig had to lean in to hear him.

Sig knew what this implied and he rubbed his brother's hair softly, trying to comfort him while he was worrying about his friend. Sig secretly wished Nick would handle things differently but he kept that to himself. "Hey, that's between Nick and Matt and it isn't our business. Don't worry about it. Nick loves his brother just like I love you."

_I love it when you tell me that. It's the best feeling in the world. And I want to say it to you. But I disappointed you. You didn't have to tell me I did, I know it_. "Sig" Edgar asked, looking up at his brother, "are you mad at me for smoking?"

Sig looked down at his brother. "Well, that brings me to the lecture," Sig sighed and Edgar heard the intake of breath he took into his lungs. Sig was very open with his brother when he spoke, "I am struggling with this Edgar, I really am. I wish I could just be your big brother on this issue and tell you it's a bad idea but I understand why you started because I started for the same reasons at your age and just let it go. But I can't and I'll tell you why."

Sig squeezed his brother tightly because he was about to bring up their mother and that was still an "iffy" subject depending on the day. "Edgar, mom knew I smoked when I was your age. She never said anything to me directly about it but I knew she knew. She used to search my room when I was at school, find my cigarettes and throw them away. I guess it was her way of telling me it wasn't ok but it wasn't enough to stop me, either. I'd try hiding them in different places but she always found them. She was pretty good at that." Sig gave Edgar a little nudge and they both smiled. "I'd just end up buying more, thinking one day she would finally lay down the law with me. But she never did. I think she eventually gave up. I do think dad always knew but he let it go, too."

"Edgar," Sig said, pulling away a little so he could look his brother in the eye, "I wish one of them would have stopped me back then cause it would have been a lot easier to quit. I can't go even a few hours without one now. My hands start to shake and I get a headache when I go too long. It hurts and I want to quit but it's really, really hard. I can already tell it's affecting my health. Jesus, you and Norman can whip me at soccer or wrestling after a few minutes. Do you ever remember that being the case?"

Edgar thought about it and shook his head. Sig was right. _Shit, Norman_. "Are you gonna tell Norman I've been smoking?" Edgar asked quickly, remembering their middle brother.

Sig hadn't thought about Norm. Norman was going to flip out about this. _Maybe this one time…no. No more lies_. "Yeah, he loves you too and he has a right to know. And I have to tell him why you aren't going with him to work tomorrow. But don't worry, I'm the one whose gonna get the lecture of a lifetime from our pious brother about how I am setting a bad example for you, which I am. I'm sorry about that," Sig finished quietly and with total honesty.

"Don't be sorry, Sig. I know you want to stop and you want me to stop," Edgar said, looking up at his brother. _I want you to stop because I need you in my life for a long, long time. _

Sig sighed. _Here comes the hard part. Whatever you say, you have to be willing to follow up on it or you can kiss any respect this kid has for you goodbye_. _Please just let the threat of this be enough._ Sig pulled his little brother up to his feet and stood him between his knees. He gave Edgar direct eye contact, which Edgar returned, and Sig held onto his hands. Edgar could feel his brother's class ring on his finger, the cool, hard gold a constant reminder that the person in front of him deserved a certain level of respect.

Sig got very serious. He cleared his throat, took a breath and said firmly, "And that brings me to the warning. This is the warning that I wished I would have gotten years ago because maybe, just maybe, it would have made the difference. I do want you to stop and you are stopping NOW. While you still can without having issues. There will be absolutely no more smoking on your part, period, for any reasons. And…if I hear of you or catch you smoking again…I will put you over my knee and spank you..." Sig choked a little but continued "…with the paddle. _Please, dear God, Edgar, don't test me on this one._ Do I make myself perfectly clear on this issue?"

Edgar stared into very serious blue eyes and had no doubt his brother meant every word of what he just said. "Yes, sir, you are perfectly clear," was all Edgar could manage to get out. He started to swallow back the tears because he could see how much it hurt Sig just to say it. _I have really disappointed him_. He tried fighting the tears but they were burning his eyes and starting to hurt.

"Sig, I'm sorry I dis…disa…" was about as far as the tough little brother got before he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. Edgar's shoulders started to shake and he felt himself getting pulled into a warm and comforting embrace. So much for the dry spell in the Hansen household. Edgar cried quietly into his brother's chest for a little while and Sig rubbed his back up and down and nuzzling his chin into his little brother's soft hair.

Finally, Sig whispered gently, "I know, Edgar. I know you are sorry and it's ok. This gets filed under those stupid things kids do that are a part of growing up and are easily forgivable, ok?"

Edgar nodded into his brother's chest and then suddenly broke down hard, "I love you," he choked out, "I love you so much…I want to tell you that all the time but I don't…I don't how. I don't know…if I'm allowed." Sig was completely stunned by the shoulder-raking sobs that overtook his brother. They came out of nowhere.

Sig panicked, thinking his brother was going to lose it again, like before, and wasn't prepared to have the entire neighborhood hear the wailing and call the cops. He bent down and scooped his brother up under his bottom with his forearm. Edgar jumped into his brother's embrace, wrapping his legs around his back and moving his arms up encircle his brother's neck. He continued to keep his face buried and let Sig carry him into the house like a little kid, shutting the door behind them.

He got the two of them into the kitchen and sat down at the chair, his brother on his lap, his legs dangling on either side of him. Edgar completely lost it, sobbing hard into his brother's neck. All Sig could do was hold on because he was confused about where all this was coming from.

When Edgar broke down about mom, Sig completely understood. Edgar missed his mother and all the comfort and affection she gave him, which had left his life when she did. He understood that, made perfect sense. Sig thought about all the affection both he and Norman gave Edgar in the last few days. _Does Edgar need more? Should I have hugged him more or spent more time with him? I don't think it's possible to show my brother any more how much I love him. _

Then Sig actually thought about himself for once. _Do I need more_? That was a God damn hard question to ask himself as an 18 year old guy. _I'm supposed to be the strong one in this family, oldest brother, tough guy, you know. I don't need that kind of affection in my life anymore, right? Affection from my family? Do I need it? Am I receptive to the affection? I'm always the one that initiates the hugs or anything of the like, not just with Edgar but with Norman, too. They don't approach me unless they are in distress (like this kid in my arms is right now). Even then, they just stand there, sobbing and waiting for the ok from me. Are they afraid to hug me first? Would I ever hug my dad first? Hell, no. _

_In order to give affection, one has to be able to receive it as well. Otherwise, it's pretty one sided, don't you think_? Sig got it. "Edgar, shhh. Calm down, kid. Listen to me," Sig whispered in his ear, "I want you say it, anytime. I don't care when or how often. I…I need to hear it. I need to hear that I'm loved. And I need to be hugged, too. No one hugs me anymore, either." _Did I really just say that? Sad thing is, I mean every f-ing word of it. She was the only one that ever hugged me in this house, too. _

Somewhere during this hug, Edgar ended up hugging his brother instead of the other way around because Sig actually lost it this time. It was frightening for a 13 years old to witness but the kid pulled himself together, stood his ground and held his oldest brother. For the first time since she died, Sig wanted his mother. Not wanted her to come back for their father's sake or take over the house and the responsibility of the upbringing of his brothers. This time, he wanted her to come back just for him, because HE missed her. Because she'd never meet his future bride. She wouldn't be there at his wedding and dance the mother/son dance with him. She'd never hold his children. They'd never meet their grandmother. These were all thoughts Edgar or Norman had yet to have but would someday. These were the thoughts of a young adult that lost their parent too soon in life.

And it was scary to hear and watch but Edgar never let go, never gave into the desire to run and hide from the tremendous pain that was right in front of him, pain some of which he didn't understand. He just held his brother in his arms, never leaving and watched Sig let all that loss go - one tough kid.

* * *

After the storm past, Sig tired to apologize, thinking a 13 year old shouldn't have seen something like that but Edgar put his hand over his brother's mouth, stopping him. Edgar quickly diverted the topic, apologizing again for his behavior and saying that he was going to bed soon. He told Sig in all honesty that he didn't have to courage to face Norman when he got home. Sig admitted he didn't either. They both decided to wait until the morning.

Edgar cleaned up the kitchen and Sig washed his face in the sink. Edgar then wished his oldest brother goodnight with a hug that lasted a few seconds and went up to his room. Sig waited to hear the bedroom door shut before he went out onto the porch and lit a cigarette. _Biggest hypocrite in the world sounds just about right_. He calmed down quickly and ended up only smoking half of the cigarette before putting it out in the ash tray. He congratulated himself for the tiny accomplishment, went back in the house and locked the back door.

Sig then left a note on the table for Norman. He decided to turn on the central air since the nights were getting hotter and he went around the house, closing all the windows.

Sig stopped in Edgar's room and found him lying in bed, reading. He was happy to see the kid was still fighting his way through the book. Sig closed his bedroom window and sat with his brother for awhile. He asked Edgar to share what the book was about, even though Sig already read this book himself several times. Edgar explained that it was a story about three brothers, a murder, a fire, a rumble and the start of a new life. Sig said it sounded pretty good.

* * *

Norman came home that night to a dark, cool house and found a note on the kitchen table. It read:

_**Norman,**_

_**Edgar is staying home tomorrow. Can you drive me to work? I need to talk to you about something alone. Don't wake the kid up.**_

_**Love You**_

Needless to say, the note and its contents raised an eyebrow. _Maybe something is wrong with dad. Maybe the kid is sick_. Norman played the guessing game in his head for a while and then forced himself to let it go for now. If it was really bad, Sig would have would have waited for him to get home before going to bed. Norman checked the house, making sure everything was locked and then went to bed himself.

* * *

The next morning, Norman drove Sig to work. Sig figured Norman couldn't flip out too much if he was driving and had to keep his hands on the steering wheel of the truck. After they pulled out of the driveway, Sig calmly explained why Edgar wasn't going to the hardware store today.

Sig then listened to the implosion going off next to him for the entire ride to the docks. Quite a few statements were made from Norman's mouth that went something like: _I'm gonna kill him, wait until I get home, I blame you for this, this is YOUR fault, should have never started, why don't you just quit, why do I have to put up with YOUR disgusting habit, not MY little brother and I'm gonna kill him_. Sig elaborated on the stern warning he gave Edgar and his sincere intention to carry out said warning if needed, no matter how difficult. This information calmed Norman slightly before he dropped off his brother at work. Sig hoped the time between work and home would do the rest.

Around the same time Norman was driving himself to work and cursing at the person who invented tobacco, Edgar was rolling out of bed. He dressed, brushed his teeth and made his bed. When he came downstairs, he remembered that this would be the first time in awhile he'd be home by himself and he immediately felt a little lonesome. Thankfully, there was a cheery note left on the kitchen table that had his name on it.

_**Edgar,**_

_**I expect you to clean the kitchen, vacuum upstairs, start dinner (casserole in the refrigerator, just put it in the oven for an hour) and mow the lawn. I also expect you to read today, at least an hour and I'd like to hear about what you read when I get home. Although it is not required, it would be nice if you would weed the flower bed in the back of the house. I left some money on the table in case you want to order pizza for lunch. Just a reminder, stay home and no one is allowed over (yeah, I tried that one too when I was your age).**_

_**Call Norman at the hardware store if you really need something. Otherwise, don't call Norman at all.**_

_**We'll be home around 5.**_

_**Sig**_

_**P.S. Don't play with anything that has anything remotely to do with fire.**_

_**P.S.S I love you**_

It was a short little note but Edgar read between the lines. First, his oldest brother specifically selected chores that Edgar liked to do and completely avoided those that he hated, like dusting and washing windows. _He punishes me but he still finds a way to be nice about it_. Secondly, even though it wasn't technically on the list, the flower bed was a tribute to mom and would be a priority. Finally, Norman would have been told this morning about the smoking and Sig was hoping he'd recover by the time they got home.

Edgar got a chuckle out of the first postscript and a warm fuzzy feeling from the second.

He ate cereal for breakfast in front of the TV, mostly because the house was so quiet and it was a little eerie. Then he cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom. He wiped down the cabinets, scrubbed the floor and put away the dishes. Edgar then went upstairs and vacuumed everyone's bedrooms, except the one belonging to his parents, the hallway and steps. Since he found himself standing at the bottom of the steps with the vacuum in his hand, he did the downstairs carpet, too.

After reading for two hours, he made a quick lunch with the food in the house. He wasn't about to spend his brother's money on pizza. Finally, he headed outside.

The day was hot and sunny but Edgar was grateful to get out of the house. It was just too quiet in there. First, he weeded the garden. Of course, he thought about mom and all the time she put into making her flowers and plants look beautiful. He made extra effort to dress the garden up as nicely as possible. Then he went back inside and opened both bays of the garage.

He took a minute to look at his motor bike. It looked like nothing ever happened to it and he marveled at his brother's work. He missed riding but he wasn't sure if or when he would ever ride again. The accident had shaken him up and he didn't know if he'd ever be able to get back on it without thinking about what could have happened that night.

Edgar pushed those thoughts to the side and pulled the lawnmower out of the garage. After pushing it out to the yard, he started it up and began the summertime ritual of mowing the grass.

Because of the loud mower and being lost in his own thoughts, he never heard the car pull down the street, stop, back up and turn into the driveway. Edgar never heard the car doors slamming and the multiple footsteps walking quickly up to the house. He didn't see the five shadows approaching him from behind. He only knew something was wrong when he turned the mower around to make another pass through the lawn.

Edgar froze, his hand moving off the leaver that kept the engine running and the mower turned itself off. Right in front of him, blocking his way back to the house, were five very mean, very familiar guys. Edgar's heart started pounding and he broke out in a different kind of sweat, not the kind he had from working in the heat but the kind that comes from pure terror.

Elliot and his cronies had wicked smiles on their faces, knowing they had the kid cornered in the yard. The minute they moved closer, Edgar bolted. The move shocked the unwanted visitors and Edgar managed to make it past them. He ran hard up to the house but they caught him as he made the jump up the porch steps. Large, angry hands grabbed him by his arms and dragged him to the dark corner of the porch. They threw him up against the side of the garage and held him there.

Elliot approached slowly, like a cat with its prey trapped against the rocks. He walked up to Edgar and saw the wild fear in the kid's eyes. Still Edgar struggled helplessly till Adam punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. They stood him back up so that Elliot could have eye contact with him.

"Oh, little man. Where have you been? We've missed you something awful," he said in a sugary sweet voice.

"The place just isn't the same without you," Joe said as he was sitting on the porch railing, playing with his pocketknife.

"Yeah, too bad big brothers are home all the time to take care of the little baby," Adam whispered in Edgar's ear as he gave his arm a hard twist. His breath smelled like a mix of wine and unbrushed teeth. Edgar winced away but Adam just laughed.

"Except today. No pick-up truck in the driveway. A sweet sports car and a tough ass motor bike, though, that seems to be in working order. Where are your brothers, anyway? Oh, that's right. They work," Elliot said as he paced slowly around his helpless prey. "How could I forget? They like to point it out so often."

Edgar raised his chin proudly. "Yeah, they're at work," his stomach was killing him and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper, "They should be home any minute, too."

"Is that right? Well, we won't stay long, then. Just a social call," Elliot said as he walked up and got right in Edgar's face. He whispered, "You cost me a lot of money losing that race last week. And money is what I need right now. Lots of it. So that I can rake over these so-called poker players from out of town. So you need to start racing again, for me, tonight, as a matter of fact."

"Never!" Edgar spat at him.

Adam raised his fist and went to punch Edgar in the face but Elliot stayed his hand. He then wiped the spit off his face calmly and then grabbed Edgar by his neck. Edgar started to struggle but it was pointless.

Elliot squeezed a little and then let go, leaving his hand around Edgar's neck. Then he leaned in and whispered in Edgar's ear, "You know, neon blue Trans Ams are easy to spot. I hear they have a history of leaking brake fluid from time to time. Sometimes, they even get run off the road at the worse possible time, like near the docks. Isn't that true, Adam?"

Adam gained a slow menacing smile, "You're right, El. You know another thing I heard a lot about? Hardware store workers getting held up at gun point and accident killed during a robbery. Happens all the time. Darn tricky guns, they go off at all the wrong times. Does your weapon have that problem, Joe?"

"Oh, sure. My pistol's misfired a few time, bro. Don't know why that's happened?" Joe laughed softly, flicking his knife in the air and catching it by the handle.

_They are going to kill my brothers if I don't do this. I know they will. _

Elliot pulled back from Edgar's face, running his dirty fingernail over the kid's cheek. "You like to play with fire, don't you, little man? Be a shame if this beautiful house, you know, the one that your family has worked soooo very hard to get, caught on fire one night. I wonder who they would blame. Maybe no one, if everyone was home when it happened and no one was left to tell the story."

Edgar listened to every word. He heard each and every word. Each word was like a noose around his neck. Like Elliot's hand around his neck. And he was trapped. And he'd be trapped…long after they left.

Elliot squeezed Edgar's chin with his hand and shook his head slightly. "Don't even think about goin' to the cops. We have guys down there that make a lot of money looking the other way when it comes to us. Trust me, no one can help you." Elliot squeezed Edgar's chin hard and the kid screwed his eyes shut, "Do you understand every word I just said?"

Edgar opened his eyes and stared into crazy, wild brown ones. Elliot was truly crazy, mad as a hatter and pure evil. There was absolutely no misunderstanding the message. Finally, Edgar nodded his head.

"Good," Elliot said, releasing his grip, "We'll see you tonight and many nights to come, little man." He turned to his friends, "We're done here."

Adam and his friend released their grip and gave Edgar one final hard punch to the stomach. Edgar collapsed to the porch floor and let out a painful moan. They just laughed and walked away. Edgar lay on the porch and listened to the car start up and pull away. When he was sure they were gone, he dragged himself into the house and cried on the kitchen floor.

* * *

Sometime later, Edgar managed to pull himself up to his knees. He wiped the tears off his face with the back of his hands and took several deep breaths. With a calm resolve, he stood and took the pizza money off the table, shoving into his back pocket. He'd need it for his cover story. The story he had already concocted in his head that included going to buy cigarettes. He'd need gas for his bike and could easily get someone to purchase the cigarettes for him. He also already knew he'd actually smoke them because he felt he'd never get through this without some relaxation.

Then he left the kitchen, leaving no note and went outside. He returned the lawnmower to the garage and pulled his motor bike outside. He went back inside the house and closed both garage doors. Then he walked through the kitchen and stopped. He looked at "The List" hanging on the refrigerator. **…my family needs me**. Without another glance, he closed the kitchen door behind him and locked it.

Edgar left the house on his bike, breaking his grounding, no chance of making home by curfew, going to buy and smoke a lot of cigarettes and coming home to lie his ass off to both his brothers. He didn't even need to think twice about it – one tough kid.


	19. Mom's Good Mixing Bowl

**I proof-read this about ten times but there are still likely a ton of typos - I'll catch and correct them eventually. **

**Just a reminder: This is TOTAL fiction and in no way relates to real life. I own nothing and make no money.**

**Disclaimer: Spanking is involved in this story - PLEASE do not read if that offends**

* * *

Edgar left his house with a heavy heart and a strong sense of purpose. He went to the local corner store and quickly found some older teenager to buy him a pack of cigarettes, having to let the guy keep some of the change from the pizza money his brother had left him in payment for the illegal purchase. Edgar only kept a few dollars for himself.

Thankfully, Norman had kindly filled the gas tank of the bike when he was finished fixing it. Edgar knew Norman would have insisted on trying it out for himself before he'd ever let his little brother drive it – one of those little things his brothers did that let him know how much he was loved – and Norman must have filled the gas tank up on his way home.

After acquiring the pack of cigarettes, with matches of course, Edgar went behind the corner store and lit his first smoke. His hand was shaking so badly, he could barely get the thing lit. He was scared to death and still shaking from the visit he received earlier in the day. As he looked at the burning match, all he could think about was his house being set on fire with everyone he loved inside. That thought haunted him and he didn't want to smoke but he needed something to calm his nerves.

What would have helped even more would have been to talk to someone about what had just happened. Not just someone or anyone but his oldest brother, the one he could talk to about anything. Sig would always make it alright. Somehow, Sig had a way to always make things better, to help Edgar feel safe and not alone. _Sig, forgive me. Don't stop loving me._

But Edgar couldn't talk to his oldest brother, or anyone for that matter, about what just happened and what he had to do. He knew he would have to race again, a thought that scared the shit out of him. He was going to have to risk everything to keep everyone he loved safe. And there was no one that could help him, no one he could turn too. He was truly all alone.

Edgar smoked halfway through his cigarette when he saw a young boy and his mother walking down the street, headed to the store. The little boy was frantically pulling on his lovely mother's hand and she was laughing.

"Candy," the kid kept saying and pulling on her arm.

"Alright, baby, hold on," his mother laughed, picking him up and carrying him in her arms the rest of the way. She tickled his little ribs and he giggled softly. She tossed him in the air and he laughed harder. Then the little boy snuggled up against his mother and the two of them disappeared around to the front door of the store.

_Maybe there is someone_. Edgar dropped his cigarette, shoved the cigarette pack into his t-shirt pocket and went around to the front of the store. He went inside, noticing the little boy with a Kit Kat bar in his hand, waiting in line with his mother.

Edgar gave the little kid the most amazing smile and the boy shyly hid in his mother's skirt, peeking out to see if Edgar was still looking at him. Edgar just smiled at him again and went to the back of the store where they kept a very small selection of flowers. He picked out a white carnation because that was all the store had to offer. He walked to the front counter, the little boy and his mother gone, and paid for it with the few dollars he had in his back pocket.

As Edgar left the store, he watched the little boy and his mother walk back down the street and his heart literally hurt. He could remember countless times when he was that little boy and his own mother walked him to the store on a warm summer day. Trying to shake off the memory, he put on his helmet, tucked the flower in the back pocket of his jeans and put his t-shirt over it. He started up the motor bike and headed down the road to the cemetery.

* * *

As he drove through the cemetery, Edgar looked around and found the closest road to his mother's grave. It was a good thing the cemetery wasn't very large because otherwise he would have never found it. He had only been here twice before, once on the day of the burial and once just this past Sunday.

He parked his bike and shut it off, taking the key and putting it in his jeans pocket. Edgar looked around at the graves of past fishermen, some not even buried under the ground where their tombstones were marked. Some of the stones were just there to comfort the families of those fishermen lost at sea, never to be found or seen again. It was a terrible way to die, just swallowed up into the dark, cold abyss and no body left to confirm the loss to those that loved them.

Edgar needed a minute to shake off the thoughts and lifted his face to the sunlight. He soaked in the warmth of the sun and tried not to think about that kind of cold, lonely death. Finally, he made the walk to his mother's grave, remembering his oldest brother's teasing about being able to find the crab and not sharing his secrets_. Oh God, please let my brother be safe out there and always find a way to get home, no matter what, just like dad._

When Edgar arrived at the pink heart-shaped stone, he knelt down and brushed away the three dead roses left on the grave. The previous storm that had battered the area a few days ago had left nothing but stems and mushed petals on the ground in front of his mother's stone. His father's tribute, left over two weeks ago, had been disinegrated into nothing.

Edgar took the white flower out of his back pocket and propped it up against the tombstone. He ran his hand along the carving of his mother's name, closed his eyes and then opened them. No one was around so he took a deep breath and spoke out loud.

"Mamma," Edgar said softly, the sound of his own voice surprising him a little and breaking the silence of the quiet cemetery. He looked around just to make sure no one was listening, that was other than the soul this message was intended for.

No one was there and, other than the soft chirping of the birds in a nearby tree, the place was completely silent. "I am so sorry," Edgar whispered out loud, "I did this. This is my fault, mamma. I brought evil to our home. The home you worked so hard to make good and pure. Those guys would have never known I existed if I didn't invite them into our lives with my stupid, selfish actions. I caused this. And now I have put everyone I love in danger. "

Edgar started to cry quietly, tears running down his face and he buried his face in his shaking hands. "Mommy, I have to break a promise I made to my brother" he cried softly, "I have to go back to that place and do what these guys say or they are gonna…" Edgar couldn't bring himself to say the word "murder" but he thought it in his head and that was enough. He looked up at the sky and said, "They'll hurt Sig and Norm and I can't ever let that happen. That's why I have to break my promise, the one I made to Sig to never go back there. I will have to lie and disobey and risk my brothers' love for me. But I have too. I have no choice, mom. I can't let them get hurt. They have protected me and kept me safe and it wouldn't be right not to do the same for them. I love them just as much as they love me, mamma. I just hope you can find a way to forgive me for the bad things I have to do to protect them."

Edgar finally thought about those particular bad things he was about to do and the consequences that would no doubt come from his actions. He thought about his oldest brother and the God awful position Edgar was about to put him in. "Mamma, please don't be mad at Sig when he punishes me for doing this. I deserve it, mamma. Because this is my fault, all of it, and I will be glad to take as much punishment as I need too to keep this family safe. Sig is doing his best and he is right to try and keep me on the good path you put me on. I just hope that someday Sig can forgive me."

Edgar sat in front of his mother's grave for a while, crying softly and trying to keep himself from shaking. His hands were sweaty and the gravity of what he was about to do started to hit him hard. He prayed that his mother would find a way to forgive him and asked her to give him strength, protect him and keep his brothers safe. He silently asked for forgiveness on the smoking issue, trying to explain that needed some kind of comfort right now. He knew he was very unlikely to get forgiveness on that issue but he asked anyway. Finally, he added in a whisper, "I love you, mom and I miss you so much. I'd give anything in the world to see you one more time." Edgar wiped away the tears from his face with the back of his hand and stared at his mother's name before him. _I am so alone again._

The white carnation slid slowly down the smooth marble onto the grass and Edgar noticed the birds had gone silent. He closed his eyes and felt a warm wave go through him. It wasn't from the hot sun or the heat of the day. He felt it on the inside, from his sneaker covered toes to the ends of his shaggy light brown hair. His hands stopped shaking and his heart returned to its natural rhythm.

_I love you_ was whispered from somewhere far away but it couldn't be heard by human ears.

Edgar guessed there was nothing more he could say. It was time to go and he left on his bike, headed to the backwoods and an uncertain outcome.

* * *

Around dinner time, Norman pulled the truck into the driveway and shut off the engine. Sig was sitting next to him in the passenger seat. The two of them had barely said a word to each other during the ride home, except for the polite conversation about work and their day. Sig was trying hard to gage what kind of mood Norman was in but it was difficult and Sig didn't want to bring up Edgar until he absolutely had too. Now, looking at the house before him, he had too.

"Norman, please don't be mad at the kid," Sig said quickly and with desperation before his brother could get out of the truck. "All kids do stupid things. God knows, we did when we were his age."

Norman sighed and turned to his oldest brother with cold eyes, "Yeah, lots of stupid things like sneaking into our high school late at night and turning all the locker locks around or making out with more than one girl on the same night."

"Mmm, I remember that…they were sisters, too," Sig was lost in the memory for a minute.

"Twins, as a matter of fact. Yeah, stupid shit like that, lover boy. But I gotta tell ya Sig, I never, ever, once, picked up a cigarette during all the stupid things I've done. NOT once. So do NOT give me the speech about how all kids do stupid things, like smoking, because that's bullshit," Norman said forcefully. "Just because you feel guilty about it…"

"Wait a minute, do you think I went easy on Edgar because I felt…guilty?" Sig was actually pissed off at this possibility. _You think you can do a better job, little brother, by all means, jump in, and take over. Then I can go to Mexico for Senior Week with my friends like all the other guys I graduated with._

"Well, did you, go easy on him?" Norman asked quietly, not backing down one bit.

Sig really thought about for a minute. He was co,mpletely honest with himself when he looked back on it. The answer turned out to be the same as yesterday. "No, Norman. For once, I think I handled it right" Sig said with conviction. Then he got quiet, "Do you think, honestly, I should have…?"

Norman sighed, "No, I guess not. Edgar didn't really put himself in danger, eminent danger, anyway, and he told you the truth, at least. Shows how much he trusts you." Norman thought about how difficult it must have been for Sig to have that conversation with Edgar and he regretted his words. "I'm sorry, Sig, I shouldn't have questioned you. You are completely right, you handled it perfectly. The kid shouldn't be fearful about getting upended over your knee for every stupid thing he does. It's just that the smoking really, REALLY bothers me."

Norman wanted to continue but whatever he said would have applied to Sig, too, and he had hurt his oldest brother enough already between the heated conversation this morning and his own doubts this evening. _And I promised that I would never doubt him again when it came to handling Edgar. What is wrong with me – second promise I broke to myself. How does Sig keep all his promises without going completely crazy?_

"Norm, Edgar knows how much you hated it, the smoking, I mean. You were one of his first thoughts yesterday. I honestly think he was more scared of your reaction to this news then whatever punishment he was going to get from me. He doesn't want to disappoint you, either, little brother. You are his big brother, too, you know?" Sig explained gently, wanting to touch Norman's arm or shoulders but not getting the opportunity.

_Ah, the big brother card. Good job, Sig. Lead by example. I love my little brother and part of loving him is forgiving the mistakes he makes. _"Well, I guess I'm gonna have to just try to get over it in the next two minutes because I'm hungry and dinner is in the house, not the driveway" Norman sighed and said as he was getting out of the truck.

"Guess so," Sig said, not showing the intense relief in his voice that he felt inside. Edgar would have been crushed if Norman was still mad at him by the time they got home.

Sig walked quickly to catch up with his brother, shoving him out of the way to get to the door first. Norman pushed him from behind, tripping him and laughing as he approached to door ahead of his older brother. He felt Sig coming up to steps, ready for revenge, but Norman stopped playing and froze when he felt the locked door handle. Sig sensed something was wrong immediately.

"It's locked," Norman said, turning around slightly and getting his keys out of his pocket.

_Maybe the kid was just nervous to be home alone without the door locked. Damn it. Never thought of that. Mom was always home growing up_, Sig thought as Norman unlocked the door.

Once the door was unlocked, Norman took out the key and opened up the house. Both brothers went inside and quickly noticed that there was no delicious dinner to be smelled from the oven. The stove wasn't even on. The list of chores sat on the unset table but the money was noticeably absent. _Must have gotten pizza_, Sig thought, refusing to believe anything else.

"Maybe he fell asleep in his room," Sig said hopefully, as he charged through the living room and up the steps, two at a time.

Norman, on the other hand, slumped slowly into the garage, not to open the bay door for his truck, but to check if a certain motor bike was missing. As he anticipated, it was gone. Upon seeing an empty garage space that once housed a motor bike, Norman did something he rarely did. He sent up a quick, silent prayer to God. _Please let the right words come out of my mouth right now because Sig is gonna need someone or something to keep him from going completely ballistic. _

Sig raced up to Edgar's room, fully expecting to find a napping little brother asleep on his bed. His heart sank when he opened the bedroom door to find the bedroom empty. He looked at the guitar sitting in its stand and the book his brother had been reading, left open, upside down, on the last page he read, sitting on the edge of his bed. _No, this can NOT be happening._

Sig checked the bathroom. It too was empty. He checked all four bedrooms. He even checked his parent's bathroom. When there were no rooms left on the second floor of the house to check, he came quickly down the steps. He looked on the front porch of the house. _Nothing to be seen there_. As he passed through the living room again, he was tempted to check under the sofa, one of Edgar's favorite hiding spots as a little boy. He was too big to fit under there now. _I forgot to check the back yard. Must be there._

As Sig walked back into the kitchen, Norman was leaning against the counter next to the garage door. All it took was one glance at Norman's face and Sig knew the kid and the bike were gone.

Sig's heart started pounding and he thought his head was going to explode. He needed something. He needed to drink something, preferably vodka, but he'd settle for ice water.

Sig grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice. He ran the water at the kitchen sink and filled the glass. Norman just watched, waited and said nothing. Sig drank the ice water very slowly, trying to calm his nerves. When his ice got to the bottom of the glass, he realized it didn't work.

Norman heard the glass smash and shatter violently into the metal sink and couldn't help but flinch from the sound. Both brothers remained frozen for a minute. Sig was gripping the edge of the counter till his knuckles turned white, staring out the kitchen window, looking sad and confused. Norman just closed his eyes and asked God again for the right words to come out of his mouth. Before they could, Sig went wordlessly outside to the porch, leaving the back door open with a slam of the screen door.

Norman took a deep breath and then headed over to the sink, picking up the trash can with him on the way. The shards of glass glittered in the sunlight from the window and the wet sink was like a tiny lake covered in ice. Norm looked out the kitchen window and saw his brother pacing, smoking and talking softly to himself. Norman sighed and started cleaning up the glass.

Sig must have heard to glass hitting the trash can and called disgustedly from the porch, "Leave it, Norman. I'll get it. I made the mess, remember, I clean it up." Then he added in a much softer voice, "Please don't…you could cut your hand."

Norman just rolled his eyes and ignored him. He cleaned up the glass from the sink and preheated the oven for dinner. When he thought that he could tolerate the cigarette smell for a few minutes, Norman went outside and joined his older brother on the porch. Norman tried not to look at his brother and the second cigarette he lit from the first. _Great, now you're chain smoking, too?_

Sig stopped pacing and sat down on the porch step. _We just sat here, right here, and had that conversation yesterday – you're grounded, no going anywhere. Should I have said it in Norwegian? Would he have understood it better?_

Finally, Sig calmed down enough to speak. "How could he do this to ME?" Sig asked softly and with so much pain in his voice, Norman physically winced.

_Oh, God, I need those words now_. "He…he didn't…do this TO YOU, he just… did it. You can't take it like a personal attack, Sig," Norman explained gently. "Maybe there is some kind of explanation. Maybe he had good reason to leave."

Sig knew Norman was right about taking it personally but the defending he couldn't take yet. "Really, were you not the one just five minutes ago who insinuated I should have handled things differently with him, that I should have just... you know. Jesus, Norman, you wanted to kill him yourself just this morning," Sig said flatly, "Now you're defending him."

"And were you not the one just five minutes ago that said all kids do stupid things and begged me not to be mad at him. Who's forgetting what now?" Norman said and saw Sig's shoulders relax slightly. _Thank you God_.

Sig smoked his cigarette slowly. Norman had taken about as much as he could of the smell (90 seconds to be exact), grumbled and left the porch. _Sorry, bro, I know how much you hate this but I need it. I need something to help me relax until I find out what is going on here. Maybe I do need to give Edgar a chance to explain, not that it's going to make that much of a difference. He could have at least left a note. Maybe something happened to him. Maybe something bad._

For the first time, Sig started to get worried that Edgar didn't leave for his own selfish reasons. Sig dropped his cigarette in the ashtray. He went into the house and shared his worry with Norman. Then he called around to all of Edgar's friends that he knew of, but no one had seen him. He tried Matt's house but no one answered.

Sig decided to drive around for a while and see if he could find his kid brother hanging around the neighborhood. The motor bike would be easy to spot. Norman said he would stay home and keep dinner warm till Sig got back. He did share with Sig that, in his opinion, the kid was fine and probably just couldn't wait to try out his new and improved bike. Norman did really believe this was the case and wanted Sig to stop worrying that something bad had happened.

After unsuccessfully driving around for over an hour, Sig came back to a hot meal and a calm middle brother that informed him at least all the other chores had been done. That didn't help Sig's mood very much. Norman noticed that his oldest brother didn't seem mad anymore, just heavily disappointed, worried and shaky. No doubt Sig was already thinking about what was inevitably going to happen when the kid got home. Norman looked over at "The List" on the refrigerator door. Breaking one's grounding ALWAYS made the list and Norman started to feel a sense of doom for his little brother.

As the two of them sat quietly and tried to enjoy the casserole Sig had made the night before, Norman had a horrible thought cross his mind. He didn't want to say it out loud but it slipped out. "You don't think he went back down…there, do you?" he asked with uncertainty, not wanting to mention the name of that evil place.

Sig didn't even need to think about it and brushed off the question with a wave of his fork. That was the one and only thing he was NOT worried about. "No, he'd never do that, of that I am absolutely certain" and he meant every word of it. Sig knew in his heart that Edgar would never break that promise, not after everything they had been through.

Norman felt stupid for even thinking it and told Sig he was right. He apologized for even bring it up. Sig just smiled. Both of them knew Edgar wouldn't go back to the place where both he and Norman had almost been killed.

Then Norman had another horrible thought. This one slipped out in a whisper. "Sig?" Norman looked over at his brother.

"Yeah?" Sig was instantly alerted by the tone of his brother's voice and he stopped eating.

Norman started to get a tiny bit misty eyed before looking down at the floor. He whispered finally, "Do you think Edgar left the house because he was scared?"

"Of what, Norm?" Sig asked in a whisper.

"Of me?" Norman looked up with sad eyes and seemed like he wanted to crawl under the table. "Because he knew I'd be mad about the smoking?"

Sig felt a twinge in his heart, looking at the worried blue eyes staring back at him, the exact same color as his own. Although he was certain this reasoning was ridiculous, Sig got up from the table, walked to over to Norman and put his hand on the top of the close-cut light brown hair. "No, tough guy. Edgar knows you love him and you would never hurt him. Don't think that again, ok?" Sig said gently, stroking his brother's head for a minute. Norman remained quiet, not sure what to believe. Norman then leaned against his brother's side and decided he wasn't hungry anymore.

Sig wasn't hungry anymore either. Sig thought to himself, _when Edgar gets home, I'm gonna listen to what my littlest brother has to say, no matter how mad or angry I get. I will give him a chance to explain and I will be patient, loving…and firm. Please dear God, let me get through this and handle things right._

After a few minutes of silence, both Sig and Norman discontinued the meal they were no longer hungry for. Norman cleaned up the kitchen, Sig took out the trash with the broken glass in it and then they both hung around the house, just waiting. Waiting for the kitchen door to open and the explanation both of them would listen to, calmly, and with open minds.

* * *

Edgar pulled his bike into the driveway next to his brother's truck at exactly 10:07 PM, well past the established curfew but not as late as has he feared. He had easily won all three races he entered. The bike was amazing and had handled like a champ. Norman had done something new to it and it was way better than before.

Despite the wins and the money Elliot was counting when he left, Edgar was warned that he better get his ass back there tomorrow night and every weekend from now on. Edgar tried to explain that he would do the best he could to get back there but that it was hard to get away from the house. The gang just laughed and teased him about being treated like a baby by his big, bad brothers.

Elliot then informed Edgar that, unless it was pouring rain, he was expected to race if he knew what was good for him. Elliot reminded Edgar that whatever his brothers could do to him for misbehaving, the gang could do ten times worse to them and to think carefully about that. Elliot then punctuated this reminder with a hard slap to Edgar's face.

Edgar had driven home with a heavy heart. _This would be the hard part_. Not the punishment he would surely take but the look in Sig's eyes the minute he walked in the door. The disappointed look would be heartbreaking and Edgar was dreading it. _No, I am doing the right thing. Be strong._

As he walked up the porch steps, Edgar steeled his courage and prayed one last time that his brother would still love him and not withdraw all his love and affection. It was a selfish thought because he knew he'd gladly deal with whatever came if it meant Sig and Norman would be safe. Still, Edgar felt sorry for himself for just a minute. Then he opened the kitchen door.

No surprise, Sig was sitting at the kitchen table, hands folded calmly in front of him. Edgar glanced at Sig for just a brief second and then looked down to the floor. He couldn't even look at his brother but managed to asked softly, "May I put my bike away before we…talk?"

"Yes, do you need help?" Sig asked calmly.

"No, thank you," Edgar answered without looking up from the floor. Then he went into the garage, lifted the garage door and pushed his bike onto the concrete floor. He closed the garage and just took a second to reaffirm his courage.

With slow steps, Edgar returned to the kitchen table. He found a cup of hot tea and now both brothers waiting for him when he got back. Norman was leaning against the refrigerator, "The List" hidden coincidentally behind his back.

Edgar noticed that their middle brother looked strange, worried somehow and he figured Norman was back to being concerned about how Sig would handle all of this. _Maybe I should be worried, too. Maybe Sig would be so mad about this, he'd punished me in anger. No, doesn't matter. Be tough._

Norman in actuality needed to hear that his little brother wasn't afraid of him and that wasn't the reason he left. Otherwise, this would have been strictly a conversation between oldest and youngest brother and Norman would have stayed out of it.

Edgar sat down in front of the cup of tea, bowed his head and waited respectfully for the yelling to begin. To his surprise, it didn't.

"So, what happened that made you leave the house?' Sig asked quietly.

Edgar looked up at his oldest brother in surprise. _He's going to want an explanation. Why can't he just send me to my room and punish me without a word, like the Old Man. Now I have too_…_No, don't look at it like that. Sig is giving me a chance to tell my side of the story. He is trying to be good to me_.

That thought made Edgar started rubbing at his face. He remembered the slap he got from Elliot because his cheek was a little tender. _Better to rub it and hide the reason it's red before my brother notices. _

Sig took the rubbing as a sign of nervousness and dismissed the motion entirely. _Looked like the kid had been at his face already. He must have been nervous on the way home. Don't be scared, kid, just tell me the truth_.

Edgar felt the cigarette pack he shoved in his back pocket, covered by his t-shirt, start to dig a hole into his heart. He couldn't get rid of it because otherwise, this story wouldn't line up and he needed to pull this off. _Don't stop loving me, please don't stop. _

Edgar was about to tell a story. Some of the story was true but most of it was not. Most of it was a bold-faced lie. _Oh what a tangled web we weave…weaving a knot into my stomach. I'll ignore it for now. _

"Sig," Edgar began softly, finally looking at his oldest brother, "You're not gonna like this."

Sig smiled inside but kept his face passive. "I figured that already but I'd like to hear it, all the same."

_Don't think about it_. Edgar began quietly, his eyes glancing over his brother's head because he was struggling to look Sig in the eye. "I…I felt really bad about yesterday and what happened with Nick and Matt. I wanted to try and make it right somehow. I know I shouldn't have left the house but…I went to the store…just to buy a pack of cigarettes."

Norman's hands clenched at his side and his jaw tightened. Edgar saw the motions out of the corner of his eye and tried to explain quickly, although in the end, it wouldn't matter. "For Nick, to give back to him for the pack Matt stole. I'll pay you back the money, Sig, promise, but I had to give some of it to the guy that bought them for me."

Norman was grateful he didn't know the identity of this person cause he'd hate to spend his summer in jail for murder.

_Kid has such a good heart,_ Sig thought as he listened to this plausible and somewhat sweet 'in a kid's mind kind of way' explanation. The oldest brother liked this story so far. He actually wanted to hear more. "And so then…" he said, encouraging his youngest brother to continue.

Edgar sighed slightly, "I went over to Matt's house but no one was home. I didn't want to leave the cigarettes there because I didn't want Matt to get in trouble by accident, like maybe Nick would think he stole them again. So I kept 'em and started to come home."

"And you didn't make it home because…" Sig asked with a certain level of curiosity, hoping this story would all work out for the best and he could find a reason to punish the kid lightly.

_Lies are pretty hard to tell_. "I…drove past Beth's house and she was outside with some of her friends," Edgar said convincingly, a little impressed with his ability to make this tale actually sound like the truth.

Both brothers looked confused by the unfamiliar name. Neither one of them had heard this girl's name mentioned before. Edgar saw their confused looks, so he explained, "You know, the girl from the movie theater the other night. She lives a few blocks over from here." That was actually true. Edgar had found out where she lived during school this past year. He had a crush on her his entire 7th grade year.

Norman grumbled under his breath, "Blonds, get ya every time."

_Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Why did it have to be over a girl,_ Sig groaned inside. _He is like a mini-me and I'm going to have to punish him for the same shit I pulled at his age – again._

Edgar wasn't telling this story to get out of whatever was coming his way. It was just the only thing he could come up with that would be believable to his brothers and he needed them to believe him. He needed to get away with this. "Anyway, she asked me to hang out with her. So I just hung out at her house with her friends all day."

"And you didn't leave us note when you left because…" Sig asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

Edgar looked at his shoes, "I thought I'd be back before you guys got home. Except, I lost track of the time because we were having so much fun."

Sig looked past the deceitfulness of the original reason for not leaving the note and immediately jumped to being very, very nervous about having another kind of conversation with this little brother. "Umm" Sig asked hesitantly, "What kind of fun…were you having…with this girl, exactly?" _Please dear God, let me not have to have THIS kind of talk with my brother right now. He's only 13 years old for God sakes. Wait, how old was I when I met that long- legged blond behind the football stadium bleachers? Shit, I was how old?_

Edgar saw his brother go white around the lips and he didn't fully understand why. He replied innocently, "Just playing around, walking to the park, watching TV. Her parents gave me dinner." Actually, Edgar was starving because he hadn't eaten anything since lunch but he couldn't say that. It would cause too many questions.

Sig relaxed. _OK, not there yet, good, leave that topic for dad to discuss – well, maybe not. I'll leave that one for Norman. I suspect that conversation with Edgar was going to be needed sooner rather than later and Norman would handle it better than dad's one minute explanation. Dad had left out a LOT of the details when all he basically said was 'always wear a condom and don't touch any of those girls that hang around the docks.'_

"And you didn't think to call home because…" Sig probed without going into the 'we were worried sick' speech. He'd save that for later.

Edgar again studied his shoes. "I forgot." _Oh, that ain't going to help my case any, but it's all I got. What do you want, I'm only thirteen. _

Sig sighed. Only one question left. He prayed to every saint, angel, good spirit and the Holy Lord quickly and then asked quietly, "Do you still have the cigarettes you got for Nick?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar answered and started to reach into his back pocket. Edgar knew he'd have to produce something to show the validity of the story. Sig would never believe that Edgar had wasted his money by throwing them away. Sadly, the only cigarettes conveniently on hand to show his brother were in the box that was half gone.

Sig was vastly relieved and then absolutely devastated in a matter of seconds.

When the box of cigarettes was produced and placed on the table, it was painfully obvious the box had been opened.

Edgar started rambling quickly, "I really like Beth. I've had a crush on her for a while and I was nervous and wanted to impress her and…" Edgar went on and on with the bullshit explanation. He could have said he gave them to his friends, but he'd be in just as much trouble for that and, frankly, he couldn't lie anymore. He smoked them and that was the honest truth, one of the few truthful things about this story.

In Edgar's mind, he was thinking – _Oh my God, I was scared shitless and more nervous than I've ever been. Being back there brought back bad, bad memories of that night and the bad things that happened. I smoked before I raced and then in between races and then on the way home at the corner for seven minutes because I knew you'd look at me like that. Oh, please Sig, stop looking at me like that. I can't take it. It fucking hurts so bad. _

Sig's heart sunk into his gut and he closed his eyes, half listening to this part of the explanation. He imagined the sunny beaches of Cancun and the fun his friends must be having. He could almost hear the waves and the girls laughing in the surf as the water sloshed over their ample…

As Sig mentally checked out to Mexico and Edgar rambled on, neither one of them noticed Norman, dangerously silent and leaning against the refrigerator like he was holding it up. Norman very rarely lost his temper. It took a lot. Sadly, this was a lot.

Within hawk-like movements, Norman grabbed a blue, ceramic mixing bowl off the counter, the scissors from the butcher block and walked over to the kitchen table. He stood at the end of the table in between his two brothers and slammed the bowl and scissors onto the hard wooden table in front of them.

The noise made Sig and Edgar physically jump since they had forgotten Norman was even there, listening to their conversation.

Norman grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the table and threw them in Edgar's face. The kid was startled and didn't move quickly enough. The cigarettes hit his cheek and fell into his lap. Norman then grabbed the scissors by the point and got right into his little brother's face. Edgar's eyes glazed over in fear.

"**Cut them up. Right the fuck now!**" Norman said through clenched teeth as he harshly grabbed Edgar's right hand and shoved the handle of the scissors into it. Edgar looked over at Sig but Norman hissed, "Don't look at him. Do as I say or so help me…"

The threat hung unfinished in the air. Sig tried to intervene but was shut down with their middle brother screaming, "**Shut up!**" at him in a voice Sig never heard before.

Sig was going to address his little brother and his tone immediately. Sig started to get up but the last thing Edgar needed or wanted was his two brothers getting into a fist fight so he quickly gathered his wits, took the cigarettes from his lap and started cutting into the box. Sig sat back down and watched cautiously.

"No, take one out," Norman commanded, looking at the box in Edgar's hand.

Edgar hesitantly opened the box and revealed the 11 cigarettes that were left.

Sig thought to himself, _11 in the box, 9 smoked. Kid must really, really like this girl to be THAT nervous. _

Edgar took out one cigarette and held it in his hand. He looked questioningly up at Norman who was standing over him, his eyes blazing with anger. Norman ignored the scared and confused look in Edgar's eyes and just pushed the empty mixing bowl over in front of his little brother, almost knocking over the cup of hot tea. Norman hissed, "**Cut it up in little pieces, as small as you can and dump it in here. NOW**."

Edgar took a breath and started cutting. He managed to cut up the cigarette from tip to end in seven pieces, even cutting the filter. The paper and its tobacco fell like dirty snow into mom's good mixing bowl.

"Again," was Norman's simple command when Edgar finished and looked up at him.

Edgar's hand started shaking but he took out the next cigarette and repeated the process.

"Again."

Edgar swallowed hard but repeated the process for the third cigarette. He refused to look at either Sig or Norman because he would burst out in tears if he did. He just cut and cut the paper, letting it fall into the bowl and kept his head down.

"Again."

Edgar cut up the next cigarette, his hand starting to hurt from making such small cuts but he kept going. The bowl was starting to fill from the shredded paper and little flakes of tobacco.

"Again," the voice and command never changed, never got soft or comforting, just hard as ice and unyielding.

Edgar took out the fifth cigarette and repeated the process, holding back the tears with everything he had.

"Again."

Sig had had enough. "Norman…please," he literally begged his brother in a voice of complete desperation.

Norman only held up his hand in front of Sig's face, refusing to look at him. It was the universal sign of **do not get involved**. Sig relented. This was something Edgar was going to have to take. Sig knew he'd be there for Edgar when it was over.

"Again," was all Norman said.

The process seemed to take forever but Edgar finally got to the last cigarette, cutting it up in the tiniest pieces he could, just willing to do anything to make Norman happy again. Edgar wanted to see that goofy smile again and hear those wise cracking comments and if this was what it took to get it, he'd cut up little pieces of cigarette paper till his hand fell off. The scissors were shaking in his hand when he was finished cutting up all 11 cigarettes and his palm was cramping painfully.

Then Edgar looked up into Norman's blue eyes, hoping to see some kind of sign that he was pleased with Edgar's efforts. Instead, all Edgar saw were the tears running down Norman's face.

Norman finally tipped the bowl, now filled halfway with shards of tiny paper and dirty tobacco, towards his younger brother. "Look at it" he commanded harshly to Edgar. "**LOOK...AT...IT!**"

Edgar couldn't look at Norman's face anymore so he looked into the bowl and the mess that was inside. It was disgusting.

Then, Norman leaned in and whispered in Edgar's ear as he peered into the bowl, "This is what you do to my heart every time you smoke." Norman then choked out in a broken, beaten voice, "**You shred my heart to pieces!**"

Edgar gasped, covered his mouth with his hand and stared into the bowl. All he could see were the shredded contents and imagined the tiny pieces were his brother's heart and not just shards of paper. Edgar couldn't breathe. He couldn't look at it. He couldn't take it. Simply could not take it.

Sig saw the look on Edgar's face and knew in his heart the kid would never touch a cigarette ever again. But it was too late. His warning had not been heeded. _Oh God, kid, I'm so sorry you have to go through this._

Edgar jumped up from the table, knocking over the chair and ran as fast as he could up to his room. He threw himself across his bed and buried his head under his pillow, trying to block out the sight of the bowl and his older brother's tears.

Both the brothers that were left in the kitchen stayed stone still, not moving from their places.

Sig had heard the last two statements. He'd been close enough to hear it and Norman knew it from the look on his face when he finally turned to face his oldest brother. The tears were flowing freely now from Norman's eyes. With absolute and total broken emotion, Norman said to Sig, "That's the same thing you do to me every time you go out there," and he pointed to the porch outside.

There was nothing Sig could say and he just stared wide eyed back into the tear-filled eyes of his best friend.

Norman stood up straight, turned away from his brother, righted the kitchen chair and walked over to the truck keys hanging from the hook by the back door. He held the keys from their hook for a second, feeling the cold metal in his fingers.

He wanted to just leave without a word but that wasn't the arrangement this summer. Sig was in charge and deserved the respect he was about to get from their middle brother because Norman knew he just crossed the line by telling his older brother to shut up and stay out of things.

Without turning back around, Norman said quietly, "I'm going for a drive, just around town for a while. I'm not drinking. I am blowing past my curfew so if you want to ground me for it, I'll understand. If you want to ground me for disrespecting you, I understand that, too."

"But I just can't be here right now. I don't know how I feel about what you have to do to that kid…but I can't be here when you do it." Norman stared at the screen door and choked back the tears, adding, "I feel guilty that I want the kid to get punished and I'm sorry for it…I shouldn't ever feel that way. It makes me feel like the worse big brother in the world because I know how hard it is for you and him both."

Norman wanted to say a lot more but he couldn't get it out. He took the keys off the hook and left.

Sig heard the truck start up and pull away. He forced himself to stop thinking about Norman the minute he left or he'd go crazy. He couldn't deal with that right now. _Someone has to be strong for the kid. Can't think about myself and the fact that I want to die for what I've done to my brother. _

Then Sig stood, went out on the porch and smoked what he truly hoped would be his last and final cigarette. _Because I need it – what bullshit! _He made it half way through his smoke and put it out in the ashtray. He didn't want to prolong this any longer.

There were no decisions to be made, no promises to create. There was a little brother upstairs whose heart was clearly broken and who needed to feel better. There was a lot of talking, explaining, understanding, comfort, affection, discipline and forgiveness with lots and lots of love to get through before the night was out. Standing on the porch smoking a cigarette was the LAST thing Sig needed to be doing.

Sig went back inside and washed his hands and face the best he could at the kitchen sink. He completely ignored the blue, ceramic mixing bowl and the cold, untouched tea cup on the table as he walked out and left the kitchen. He went into the laundry room and took a clean t-shirt out of the dryer. He put it on, changing out of his old shirt and tossing it in the dirty wash basket. Sig was in no way about to spank his little brother for smoking smelling like a cigarette himself.

Then, with a heavy heart and a strong sense of purpose, he walked upstairs to his parent's bedroom. He got the paddle out of the closet and couldn't help but think, _six days…I only put it away six days ago. This can't be happening. Maybe it will be a little easier the second time._ As he walked to Edgar's room, he heard his little brother's muffled hiccups from holding back the sobs he refused to let go. The sound broke Sig's heart. _Who am I kidding? How could this ever, ever be easy?_


	20. The Caged Animal

Norman drove around aimlessly for a while, just listening to his favorite country music and trying to block out the memory of his little brother's face. Unfortunately, it was late at night and all the country music channel had to offer was sad, painful slow songs about heartache, loss and broken lives. When Norman decided he couldn't afford to waste gas just driving around to nowhere, he pulled into the parking lot of the hardware store. It was closed, of course, and the only store open in the shopping center was the coffee shop at the end of the block. Therefore, there were hardly any cars in the parking lot so Norman had his selection of available spaces. He pulled the truck into the spot under the glowing orange streetlamp and put it in park. He left the engine running, just listening to the beautiful, manly humming sounds that it made. That was a waste of gas, too but Norman found the sound more comforting than the radio right now so he turned off the sad country channel and just sat silently in the driver's seat.

The truck hummed softly and the engine made the entire vehicle vibrate gently, like someone was rocking the truck to sleep. Norman closed his eyes and was flooded with the memory of being a little four year old boy sneaking into his baby brother's room late at night. Edgar was about six months old and asleep in his crib. As he crept up to the crib, Norman could hear his baby brother's even breathing and quiet mews as he dreamt of the next bottle or colorful toy to be manhandled by his chubby fingers and new baby teeth.

Norman would just kneel in front of the crib, looking through the wooden slats and stare at this baby that now occupied most of mom's time. Norman wasn't jealous, though. He was actually grateful that he was no longer the baby of the family and Sig would have someone else to pick on instead of just him. Sig could be pretty mean sometimes. Norman had already decided he was not going to be a mean older brother cause Sig had that role down perfectly. He wanted to reach out and touch his little brother's baby-soft cheek but he was scared he'd wake him and then Norman would catch hell from dad for being out of bed. He was never allowed to hold the baby, even when mom was around, because he was too little himself. But he wanted too, all the time. He wanted to hold his baby brother so that Edgar would know things would always be good between them, that he'd look out for him and protect him till the day one of them died. Norman must have snuck into his baby brother's room countless times to watch him sleep.

Only one time during these excursions did Norman creep into the room to find he apparently wasn't the only one that made these night time visits. A five year old, blond hell raiser was also staring quietly at the newest member of the family.

When Sig felt Norman crawl up alongside of him, he pounced on him like a panther and said in a whisper, "If you ever tell anyone, I'm telling mommy."

Norman thought, "Well, you'd get in trouble, too" but he just nodded his agreement silently.

Sig's voice must have woken the baby, because when both brothers looked up, they had little green eyes staring back at them.

Sig and Norman froze, waiting for the baby to start crying and thinking they'd both be spending significant time in separate corners the next morning.

Instead of crying, Edgar just giggled softly, like he was finally included in on some secret joke between the three of them. Edgar stuck his sticky fingers between the wooden slats of the crib, like some kind of poor, caged animal, and tried grabbing his oldest brother's nose. Sig allowed it and winced without making a sound. Norman then rubbed his little brother's soft cheek and Edgar let go.

"Bror," Norman whispered softly to his baby brother, using their parent's native language to communicate their relationship with him.

Then three of them just stared at each other for a while in perfect silence till Edgar could no longer fight his heavy eyelids and fell back asleep. Sig and Norman left the room as quietly as they came. When they got to their own rooms, Sig punched Norman in the arm, snickered and slipped into his room before the war could break out.

_Bror._ Norman continued staring out his windshield to the neon lights of the coffee shop. He couldn't stop the images anymore. All he could see was Edgar's eyes filled with fear and confusion, the red mark on his face where the cigarette pack had hit him (Norman hadn't noticed the red mark was on Edgar's face when he walked in the back door) and his hand shaking with cramps because he squeezed the scissors for so long.

_What kind of big brother am I? How could I have done that?_ Norman dropped his head in his hands and started bawling. He could cry as long and as loud as he wanted here in the safe confines of his truck and he did just that. _I was worried Edgar ran away because he was scared of disappointing me and then, when he got home, I treated him exactly like he should have been afraid. Why was I so mean to him? Why couldn't I have handled it better? I just love him so much but I don't know how to say it or show it. So I hurt him because he hurt me. Not the way to lead by example. And on top of it, he's gonna get punished thinking I'm mad at him, which I'm not anymore. I should have gone to his room and talked to him first. But I left…because I'm a coward. Not only did I not comfort either of my brothers before I left, I made things ten times worse for both of them. _

Norman sat in his truck for over an hour, crying and mentally beating himself up. There was no ice cream or movie in the world that could have made him feel better.

**A/N: Yes, I fully admit I wrote this little chapter because I wanted to avoid the conversation going on at home for a long as possible. Guess I can't prolong it anymore. It's a heartbreaker but chapters beyond the next will be fluffy for a little while. Reviews provide encouragement through the difficult parts and I need 'em. **


	21. On Being A Man

**I can't ever seem to get these scenes over in just one chapter.**

**Warning: References to spankings. **

**Dedicated to my loyal reader who is writing his/her term papers - been there, done that - good luck:)**

Around the time Norman was thinking of Edgar as a baby, Sig was standing outside of his littlest brother's bedroom, imagining what kind of man Edgar would grow up to be. Sig hoped that his brother would make a fine man who worked hard and still retained his heart of gold. A man that was compassionate, strong and honest to a fault.

_That honesty is gonna drive me crazy someday but it'll be worth it. I only hope that I can set some kind of good example for him. And part of that example is being a man of your word. Don't promise something and never follow thru on it, because then no one will trust you and you'll lose respect in the eyes of your friends and enemies alike. _

Sig knew in his heart as much as he didn't want to punish his brother, especially considering the encounter with Norman in the kitchen, he had no choice. Just yesterday, the warning had been clearly laid out but Edgar had elected to ignore it. Sig purpose ignored the why question that was bouncing around in his head but it was difficult. Something didn't seem right about this whole situation but damned if Sig could figure it out. Nothing seemed to make much sense so Sig went with the best explanation he could come up with.

_Maybe this is some kind of test. Edgar has to know that I meant what I say because I always have, right? When I tell you I love you, I mean it. When I tell you to never be afraid to tell or ask me anything, I mean it. When I tell you I will always protect you, I mean it. When I tell you I'm gonna spank you with the paddle if you smoke again, I mean it. They are all the same things that boiled down to one very, very important thing – T.R.U.S.T. _

_I'm not losing your trust, kid. No way, no how. _

With that thought, Sig slipped his high school class ring into his left jeans pocket, tucked the paddle behind his back and knocked softly on the bedroom door. No answer. The knock could not be heard over the muffled choking sounds coming from the room so Sig gently opened the door and peeked in.

Edgar was lying face down on his bed, a pillow over his head and hands and was shaking and making gasping noises that made Sig fearful the kid was going to hyperventilate and pass out.

Sig moved quickly into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. With soft footsteps, he walked over to the bed and slipped the paddle under the folded blanket at the edge of the bed. It was going to be a while before it was needed and Sig felt like having it just sitting there out in the open would be torture for the both of them.

Despite his current state, Edgar sensed the motion. He wasn't the least bit surprised or upset that the paddle was back in his room. He had expected it but he appreciated Sig's kind gesture all the same. It sort of meant that there were still things to talk about and Sig was still willing to take the time to talk about them. Edgar just hoped he wouldn't have to lie anymore because the knot in his stomach was already growing and no spanking or paddling in the world was going to get rid of it. He disobeyed and lied to his brother's face about so many things and he broke a promise he made just six days ago.

But more important than those things, Edgar had deeply hurt Norman, and the pain was unbearable. He didn't think he could live with it and this thought brought a round of painful choking sounds that were heartbreaking just to hear.

Sig noticed Edgar's book had fallen onto the floor so he picked it up and put it on his desk. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and, as gently as he could, he touched his youngest brother's back with his right hand.

Edgar didn't flinch away and Sig took this as a good sign. Sig could feel the raking sobs his brother was making so he just left his hand still for a few minutes. It was his way of letting his brother know that someone that loved him very much was right next to him and wasn't about to let him suffer alone. _Should have done this a hundred fucking times_, Sig thought to himself. _Why did I stop myself? Doesn't matter, I'm here now…and always will be. No matter what_.

Edgar was having trouble breathing, trying to contain the intense pain he was feeling inside and he started shivering. Strangely enough, he did notice that the gentle, warm right hand on his back was not wearing a certain high school class ring. _Sig must have left it in his room. He never takes it off but he took it off for me, again and I don't deserve it_. This brought more intense dry sobbing and heaving.

Sig finally had enough. He tossed the pillow off his brother's head and leaned in, whispering, "Stop, please, before you make yourself sick. Just talk to me, kid, please. It will help, I promise." Sig stroked his brother's messy hair with his left hand, his right moved up to Edgar's shoulder, squeezing gently and trying to encourage the kid to talk about it.

Now that he could see his face, Sig tell that Edgar was not letting himself actually cry but fighting to keep the tears in, hence the gasping sobs.

Edgar didn't move. He kept his eyes shut and buried his head in the comforter of his bed, his hands already at his face, rubbing woefully. It took over ten minutes for him to calm down. He tried speaking several times, finally choking out simply, "It hurts, Sig. It hurts…I didn't know." It was hard to understand from under the muffling of the blanket but Sig got it.

Sig smiled to himself. He knew exactly what Edgar was talking about because Sig was feeling the exact same way inside. "You didn't know how much you smoking hurt Norman." Sig said knowingly, more of a statement than a question.

Edgar just nodded pitifully. He turned his head to the side but kept his eyes closed. He just couldn't look at his brother right now but he figured Sig would want some kind of verbal response. "Yes, sir" he answered in a whisper.

"Easy on the 'sirs' Edgar, this is just a conversation between you and me, as brothers, the way I prefer it, ok?" Sig said gently.

Edgar nodded again, keeping his eyes screwed shut and still fighting the tears. "I didn't know, honest I didn't. I would have never smoked if I did" Edgar mumbled over his hand, which was rubbing hard at his lips now.

With his right hand, Sig lightly grabbed Edgar's and took it away from his face. He could see his little brother was getting raw around his lips from rubbing them so hard. _No more hurting yourself_. While holding on to the smaller hand, Sig sighed and said, "I didn't know either until tonight. I mean, I knew it bothered him but I never realized how much." Sig let go of Edgar's hand and placed it firmly on the bed. The motion was a clear message for Edgar that he was not to go after his face again tonight. Sig then returned to rubbing his brother's back gently over one of his old ACDC concert t-shirts. _The kid has other shirts, why does he continue to wear my old things._

"I really hurt him." Edgar whispered to his oldest brother, "I never meant to hurt him like that."

"Me neither, Edgar" Sig whispered back. He took a very deep breath and thought, _once you say it, Sigurd, you have to follow thru on it_. Then he said quietly, "That's why I'm quitting. Tonight, as a matter of fact."

For the first time since Sig came in the room, Edgar opened his eyes and look up at his oldest brother out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head towards Sig with an expression of shock on his face.

Sig saw the look and gave a terribly fake expression of shock back. Edgar actually smiled and slowly rolled over onto his back. He pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard of his bed. This information stopped the choking sobs in a heartbeat because it sounded too good to be true.

"For real?" Edgar asked incredulously, his eyes wide with hope.

Sig smiled and nodded. "Yes, for real. Cold turkey, God help me" Sig said with meaning and put his hand on his little brother's knee. He got serious and said, "That's one of the things we have to talk about."

Edgar just nodded to let his oldest brother know he was listening.

Sig looked at his brother hard. "Edgar, I'm likely to be real, real grumpy for the next few days and probably pretty sick so I won't be hanging around you very much. So I need you to understand that it has nothing to do with you or anything you did. I'm not mad at you at all. It's just going to be very hard for me to quit. I smoked a long time, as you well know, but I need to stop because it's killing my younger brother and setting a terrible example for my youngest brother. So…can you support me on this…no matter how tough I am to live with for a little while?" Sig asked hopefully.

The only answer Sig got was his little brother throwing his arms around his neck and giving him a hug so hard, it almost sent Sig hurling off the bed. Sig caught them both by bracing them with his left arm, his right holding his brother close to his chest.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" Sig whispered into his littlest brother's shaggy hair.

Edgar nodded enthusiastically against his brother's chest. He couldn't have been happier or prouder of his brother and the tough decision he was making. Edgar was genuinely willing to put up with a grumpy Sig for as long as it took if it meant that he'd quit smoking for good.

Sig hugged his little brother back, grateful for the show of support and he was now very sure he was doing the right thing. Apparently, his smoking bothered this little brother as well. Otherwise, the arms around his neck wouldn't be squeezing so hard. _Sorry, kid, I didn't know that either. I just hope I don't take my grumpiness out on you and the tough guy._ Sig started planning to hiding in his room for most of the weekend so his brothers wouldn't be exposed to his evil side.

Finally, Sig pulled his brother away from him, setting Edgar down on the bed next to him. "From the look on your face downstairs, you're done with smoking too, at least I very much hope you are?" Sig asked, looking at Edgar out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes" Edgar said quietly, "I'm done for sure…guess I came to that decision a little too late, huh?" Edgar bowed head and started studying his brother's shoes.

"Yeah, about a day too late, to be exact." Sig said, nudging him in the shoulder with his own gently. Then he said, "I have to tell you, I still have some questions for you."

"I figured you might." Edgar said with a sigh of resignation. _I don't want to lie to you anymore, Sig. I hate this. But I can't take the risk of telling you the honest truth of what I did and where I went or why I smoked because I'm afraid if I tell you or Norman, you'll both confront those guys and get yourselves killed. Stubborn, tough Norwegians that we all are. You won't listen to me when I tell you how evil those guys really are. You don't know the half of what they can do. _

"Let avoid the smoking topic for a minute, ok. I want to talk about other stuff first" Sig said.

Edgar replied with a short nod.

Sig took a deep breath. _Ok, just be honest about what it bothering you the most and try not to bring the kid down too much. He's very fragile right now. Have to be careful about scolding him and making him feel worse than he already does. Thanks, Norman, by the way, for making this more of an emotion rollercoaster then it has to be._

Then Sig went to dealing with the easiest thing first.

"Ok, I understand why you left the house. You saw me offer my own cigarette to Nick and you felt it would be right to do the same. You wanted to follow my example. I get that, totally, and am actually very proud of you. That you wanted to try and do the right thing." Sig started this important conversation with praise, which came from his heart. He wasn't about to let this kid get completely down on himself because Sig thought too highly of him. _You are a great kid, don't forget it._

The praise from his oldest and most admired brother did NOT have the intended effect for Edgar. In essence, it had quite the opposite effect.

_That was complete bullshit, Sig. Complete and utter bullshit and you bought it, hook, line and sinker. Jesus, I hope you change your mind about never taking the strap to me because at this point, I deserve nothing less._ Edgar wanted to go back to hiding under his pillow but he kept his head down so his brother wouldn't see the shame and humiliation in his eyes.

"But," Sig began slowly, "you were grounded and you were not supposed to leave the house, under any circumstances." He then added quietly, regretting having to say it, "You disobeyed me."

_Yep, a whole hell of a lot_. Edgar just nodded silently, still studying his brother's big shoes.

"And then you stayed out…for a girl, no less…by the way, sounds like she likes you, too (Sig nudged his brother gently, trying to get a smile. It didn't work. _That's strange_)…and you lost track of the time." Sig recalled the events of the night.

_She does like me, I think. She told me so when she kissed me at the movies. But I didn't ever lose track of the time tonight. I knew exactly what time it was._ Again, Edgar just nodded. _I wonder if my feet will get that big someday._

Sig sighed and couldn't believe the words he had heard so often himself growing up were about to come out of his own mouth. "I realize I am going to sound exactly like mom right now, and maybe that's because she was so damn smart.. and right 99% of the time…ok, maybe 100% of the time, but I…well, Norman and I…we were worried sick about you. I drove around for an hour looking for you, praying you weren't in some ditch off the side of the road somewhere. Lots of bad thoughts were going through my mind and I was scared, Edgar. Really, really scared." Sig whispered, turning away from his brother and towards the bedroom window, "I'd never get over it if something bad happened to you."

Edgar actually physically felt his brother's words pierce his heart like a knife. It fucking hurt and Edgar didn't realize he unconsciously moved his left hand up to his chest, rubbing his heart over his t-shirt. _I had good reason, Sig. I really did. Sorry I scared you but I'd never get over it if something bad happened to you, bro. You and Norman are everything to me now_.

Edgar started crying on the inside but just nodded.

"So, you didn't tell me where you were going and you didn't think to call home to let me know where you were. Clear house rules that were broken." Sig said, still looking out the window. He added quietly, "You disobeyed again."

_I had too. I couldn't call you. I couldn't tell you where I was. Yes, I disobeyed the rules and knew exactly what I was doing when I broke them._ Edgar only nodded, not realizing his brother wasn't even looking at him.

Sig sighed. He added quickly, "I'm not addressing the curfew issue tonight but we'll talk about that tomorrow."

Edgar let out the tiniest gasp, thinking he'd be getting two punishments, one tonight and one tomorrow and that everything just wouldn't be totally settled tonight. _Please don't make me go to sleep without settling all my debts. I hate waiting, no matter how bad the punishment would be increased to settle them all now._

Sig heard the noise and interpreted it correctly. He turned to his brother, quick to explain and set his mind at ease. "No, I don't mean THAT kind of talk. I just think…maybe 9:00 for a thirteen year old is a little…harsh. I want to talk to you at about extending it but right now is not the time, ok? Because you again disobeyed the rules by breaking your old curfew time tonight and I don't want you to think the extension is some kind of reward."

Edgar pondered this information for a minute. _He's trying to treat me like a big kid instead of a baby. Why did you have to pick now? It only adds to the ever-growing guilt._ Edgar mumbled a simple, "Ok" and left it at that.

Sig tried to return the conversation back to the list of offenses and needed to explain some things. He touched his little brother on the back of the head lightly and said, "If that had been the end of the disobeying tonight, I really want you to know I would have handled things a little different."

Edgar looked quizzically at his brother out of the corner of his eye, curious to know how Sig would have handled the breaking of these long established rules.

Sig saw the look and clarified, despite how difficult it was to do so, "We'd still be in your room, having this…chat…"

Edgar knew what that insinuated.

"…But I would have never gone to mom's closet first." Sig said, sadly cocking his head to the side.

Edgar knew what that insinuated too. His brother would have spanked him, using only his hand and nothing else.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Edgar, is I'm not breaking out the paddle every time you do something wrong. As a matter of fact, I am firmly committed to never touching it again after tonight…with one very important exception. That exception is if you ever knowingly put yourself in danger or at risk. Do NOT take that as some kind of challenge or warning. Just look at it as plain fact and obey me on this. Do you understand me?' Sig asked, rubbing his brother's hair gently.

Edgar nodded.

"Answer, please." Sig whispered in the tone that now switched the conversation over to another kind of level.

"Yes, I understand." Edgar said clearly.

Sig leaned in to his brother's side and whispered softly, "I'm only using the paddle tonight because I said I would if you smoked. I just don't want you to think I'm mean on purpose."

Edgar turned his full attention to his brother and saw the sad look in his eyes. "No" Edgar said passionately, "I never, ever would think you were mean like that, Sig. You are so good to me and…" _I've been so horrible to you, doesn't matter what the reasons are now._

Edgar dropped his gaze and returned to staring at his feet but the real tears were coming fast. _What have I done? How could I have done this to my brother? Why did I have to smoke? _Stupidity was the only answer he could come up with.

Sig took another deep breath and rubbed his brother's hair. He could see the kid was starting to get upset and there was still something else he needed to discuss with him. _How can I make him feel better about himself?_ Sig thought about it and came up with the same solution he did the last time they were both in this situation. _Why does this seem to lead to me telling him an embarrassing story about myself? Well, let's get there then._

"Umm…I'm not trying to be a smart ass when I asked this but, honestly, did you think I was kidding…about the warning, I mean?" Sig asked the question in all seriousness. No surprise, Sig already knew the answer to the question.

Edgar pulled back his tears and ran his hands over his face, just once. Then remembered his brother's gesture about not going after his face and stopped. So he started rubbed his hands against the fabric of his jeans and told himself he was going to find a way to be as honest as possible.

"No, I knew you were serious when you said it." Edgar replied quietly, still looking at the floor.

"But you smoked anyway. Edgar, I'm scared to ask but I got to know. Why?" Sig asked, taking his brother's hand and holding it with his own left hand to stopping the furious rubbing of his jeans.

Sig held on to the hand where it was and gave it a little squeeze, encouraging the kid to tell him the truth.

"I don't know…I was nervous…they were in my pocket…it was too convenient…and I just wasn't thinking, I guess," was the only truthful explanation Edgar could come up with. He added, looking at Sig's hand holding his own, "You real mad about that?"

"No, Edgar. At first I was confused, like you thought I was laying out some kind of challenge, which I wasn't. I really believed the thought of the paddle would frighten you enough to stop. But that was stupid of me and I'll tell you why." Sig squeezed his brother's hand, looking for his own courage now. "Do you remember the mailbox incident?"

Edgar looked lost. "No."

"Oh, come on…you don't remember when I got my driver's permit the first time?" Sig asked in shock. _The kid had to remember_. It was a classic screw-up in the Hansen household.

Edgar searched his memory for something that would ring a bell. Nothing came. "When did this happen?"

"Oh, Gosh, I was fifteen. You were ten. It was the end of summer, I think. How can you not remember this?" Sig asked as lots of memories were coming back to him.

"Sig" Edgar explained in a quiet voice, "I was still going to summer camp when I was ten. Don't YOU remember?" Edgar couldn't believe Sig had forgotten the camp issue. Edgar hated camp because he felt like a baby, being sent away from home while his brothers got to stay and have fun with their friends.

"Oh, yeah…camp (Sig said the word slowly). You loved it there." Sig added sarcastically.

Edgar rolled his eyes and muttered, "You know I didn't -all those rich kids with parents that had desk jobs and who had no idea how to fix a damn thing or fish if their life depended on it. I hated it!"

"Well, then I guess you get to hear this story for the first time." Sig said with a wry smile, steeling his courage for yet another painful trip down memory lane.

"Can't wait!" Edgar said enthusiastically.

Sig rolled his eyes and pushed Edgar over with a shoulder bump. Edgar fell over onto the soft comforter. Sig just laughed and helped him back up, still holding on to his hand. Then he took a deep breath and started.

"I was fifteen and dad came home from Salmon fishing and took me to the DMV. I had studied all summer and passed the written test with one arm tied behind my back" Sig said proudly, raising his chin a little.

Then he dropped it into his chest. "On the way home, dad warned me that I was never allowed to take the car out by myself. That he or mom had to be with me at all times if I wanted to practice driving. And he finished his warning with 'If I find that you took that car out by yourself, I'll lick you something good.' Sig finished the last part with his best dad's voice impression. It was pretty spot on because Edgar shuttered a little just hearing it.

"Yeah," Sig said, returning to his normal voice, "he warned me, loud and clear. The very next day, I took the car out by myself."

Edgar gasped slightly.

Sig slapped his hand to his forehead and rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, classic stupid moment. But I thought I knew what I was doing. The keys were just hanging there for dad's car. Mom and dad had gone down the street to visit grand mom, because she was so sick…" Sig and Edgar grew quiet for a minute. Their mother's mother had passed away that very winter and they both still missed her a lot. She was like an older version of mom.

Sig took a breath and continued "… and since it was nice out, they walked. So I was home alone with car keys that were just calling to me, saying my name softly like some kind of religious chant. Who knows were Norman was…some girl's house, no doubt. Anyway, I figured I passed the written test so easily, I had it covered, right? Plus, I thought dad would never find out. Turns out, he kept track of the mileage on the car." Sig leaned in and whispered to his youngest brother, 'Remember that information for when you get your permit, ok? Learn from my mistakes."

Edgar nodded and thought _I would have never been stupid enough to take the car in the first place…well…maybe just once…around the block…just to see what it felt like behind the wheel._

"I just wanted to go around the block, you know? Just to see what it felt like to be behind the wheel of the car." Sig explained and Edgar laughed on the inside. _I am sooo like my oldest brother._

"Anyway, on the third time around the block, I knocked over the mailbox in front of our house. I almost shit my pants, Edgar. Truly." Sig nodded to his brother, confirming the truth. "It didn't damage the car at all and I just put it back in the garage as quickly as I could, hanging up the keys like nothing happened. By the time mom and dad came home, I managed to fix the mailbox as best I could."

Sig held onto his brother's hand and shared the following information for the first time with another living soul. "I wish I would have just told dad when he got home and not tried to cover it up because I would have saved myself from a sleepless night." Sig said sadly. He explained further, "I felt so freaking stupid. All I could think about was what if that had been a little kid standing there instead of our mailbox."

Sig detached his left hand from his brother's and started wringing his hands in front of him. He was speaking in a whisper now, "What if it had been you, Edgar, standing there? I couldn't live with myself if… God, I was totally not ready to drive and dad knew it. That's why he warned me not too. But, I didn't listen. I don't know why I didn't. The keys were there...it was too convenient and I just wasn't thinking. (Sig smiled at his brother - _yeah, same reasons_) Maybe there is some kind of defect in the teenage brain that makes us do this kind of stupid stuff. Either way, I felt so guilty about it, I was sick to my stomach all that night. It didn't help that I tried to cover it up, too. That only made it worse."

"But dad found out anyway?" Edgar said, guessing correctly where this story was going. Edgar ignored the thoughts of his own cover-up, telling himself it was ok because he wasn't covering up the truth to protect himself but to protect his brothers.

Sig exhaled deeply, "Of course he did. He knew when he got in the car the next day and the mileage was not where he left it. It didn't help that the mailbox was leaning over like a drunken fisherman on his first day back home from the fishing season. Seems just pushing it back in the hole was not an adequate job of fixing it."

_I could have told you that, Sig. You have no idea how many times I've knocked the damn thing over with my bike. You might want to learn how to use a tool or two someday, big brother_, Edgar thought to himself.

"Well, at breakfast, dad asked me point blank if I took the car. I was actually glad he did so I could tell him what happened. I couldn't go through another night like that. Mom hightailed it out of the house after breakfast, taking Norman along with her to the grocery store. Dad then asked me for my permit, which I handed over and he ripped it up right in front of me, saying I obviously wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility." Sig sighed quietly.

Edgar's shoulders slumped. His father had humiliated his oldest brother and it hurt Edgar just to hear about it. _It must have been awful for Sig to watch that._ But that was dad's way. He could be pretty effective but harsh at times. Edgar just whispered, "I'm sorry, Sig."

"Don't be. He was right, I wasn't ready." Sig explained with regret and then paused, remembering the memory of the shredded permit sitting on the kitchen table. _A lot like the shredded paper sitting in mom's good mixing bowl on the kitchen table right now_. Oh, the similarities were downright painful and Sig needed to stop thinking about it before he crawled under the bed and hid for the rest of his life.

Sig quickly brushed off that mental image and went on, "So, after that, he told me we were going to fix the mailbox together. He got the post hole digger and a shovel and we headed outside. He showed me how to fix it properly without saying hardly a word, other than 'hand me that' or 'are you watching?' The whole time we were out there, I was expecting him to lay into me about the warning he gave me and why I didn't listen but he never said a word about it. Dad just kept working and stayed quiet the whole time. There was a lot I wanted to say to him but it's hard with dad…you know how he is."

Edgar nodded silently. He knew exactly what Sig wanted to say to his father because the same words were hanging in his own throat at this very moment.

"So, we just finished fixing the mailbox and, when we were done, he told me to go clean up and wait for him in the kitchen. You can figure out the rest from there." Sig said with a slight flair of his hand.

"Was it very bad?" Edgar asked, his hand over his mouth.

"One of the worst. I'm sure dad had the same thoughts I did about it being a person instead of the mailbox." Sig turned to his brother and lifted his hand to Edgar's cheek, turning his face so that they were finally looking at each other. Sig began softly, "Dad has always been a man of his word. That's why he is so well-respected in this community. People around here look up to him, the old guys and even his competition. He may not say much but he always does what he says. Takes a lot to be that kind of man and I'm not even worthy to stand in his shadow but I'm trying my best."

Sig then put both hands on either side of his brother's face and pulled him close, touching his forehead with his own. They both closed their eyes and Sig said quietly, "So when I tell you I'm gonna spank with the paddle if you smoke again, I mean it. And when I tell you I'll protect you from anything and everything, I mean it. And when I tell you to never be afraid to tell or ask me anything, I mean it." Sig opened his eyes and pulled his head back, leaving his hands on his brother's face. Edgar opened his eyes as well so they were directly looking at each other, blue eyes to dark green. "And when I tell you that I love you, very much, I mean every word of it!" Sig finished, his voice starting to shake. He ran his thumb over Edgar's cheek and managed to smile a little.

Edgar swallowed hard, fighting back the tears because he wasn't going to let himself cry when he said, "Sig, I never meant to disrespect you. It was never my intention to disobey you. I wanted to listen but I honestly don't know how it all happened. I can only say that I'll try my best to never let it happen again. I disappointed you but I disappointed myself too…I'm sorry and I hope that you can forgive me." Edgar was actually apologizing for a lot more than his brother knew about.

Sig sat there, absolutely stunned. Those were the exact same words he longed to say to his father when they were fixing the mailbox. _How did you know?_

Edgar put his own hands up to his brother's stubbly face, touching both cheeks. He whispered, "I can tell you that. I can ask you that. And I'll tell YOU why. Because you may not think so, but, with all due respect to our father, you are twice the man he'll ever be."

Sig heard the words and initially wanted to argue, come to his father's defense but there wasn't time. He watched as his brother took his hands back and move Sig's hands from his face gently. Edgar got up from the bed and started taking his sneakers off. He removed his shoes and placed them neatly by his dresser. He turned and headed to the chair at his desk.

Sig stopped him on the way by, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him over to his right side. Edgar gave him a surprised look and then started to unbutton the button of his jeans before his brother. Sig stayed his hands with his own. Edgar looked at his brother with a confused expression.

Sig looked at him with his blue eyes and explained, "You think I'm twice the man as dad. Well, you, little brother, are becoming twice the man I am. I tried to cover up my mistakes. You told me truth from the start. That goes a long way in my book so there's no need to take those off." Sig said, referring to Edgar's jeans.

_BUT I DID LIE! I LIED ABOUT ALMOST EVERYTHING!_ Edgar screamed in his head. _Please don't show me this mercy when I don't deserve it._ But there was nothing Edgar could do but stand there, staring at his brother's eyes, which held a certain amount of pride, pride he felt he didn't deserve. He couldn't look those eyes and the only source of recourse was to bend over his brother's lap and rest his head, chest and arms on the bed. Again, he folded his arms and buried his face in the nook of his left arm. Edgar was trying to hide the shame he felt from his brother and himself.

Sig wanted to talk some more, like maybe till the end of the summer, because he wasn't ready for this. He didn't expect Edgar to get into this position so quickly. _I need more time. __I'll never be ready for this. I hate this, I hate it, I hate it. I'm not going to cry. I'm gonna be tough enough for the both of us._

Edgar tried to get comfortable but there was something digging into his right rib so he slid away from his brother a little to get away from it.

Sig felt to motion, thinking his brother was afraid and he started rubbing his back gently. "You ok?" he whispered. Sig tried to pull Edgar closer to him but the kid wouldn't budge.

"Your car keys are in your pocket." Edgar tried to explain as he turned his face to the side facing the bed, not willing to look at his brother. _I also don't feel like I deserve any comfort for this so please stop rubbing my back like that. _

Sig thought for a second, _No, my car keys are hanging on the hook in the kitchen. What is this kid talking about? _Then he remembered what was in his pocket. Putting his right arm around his brother's back and side so he wouldn't slide down, Sig leaned back and dug his class ring out of his pocket. Edgar just lay still, assuming that Sig was taking his keys out so they wouldn't bother him.

Instead of hearing the jingling of keys hitting the floor, Edgar felt a cool, metal ring getting slipped onto his right index finger. "No biting," was the only explanation he got.

Edgar turned his head to look at the ring on his finger and then tucked his right hand under his neck slightly so he wouldn't be tempted. The ring's blue stone sat smoothly against his skin and he could feel the engraving with his thumb. He moved his left hand to grab ahold of the edge of the bed, hiding his face next to his left forearm and waited.

Sig returned to rubbing his back very gently. Edgar just wanted to get it over with but that wasn't Sig's way. _I don't deserve the comfort but I need it. I'm so scared you'll stop loving me. So I'm gonna get it while I still can._ "Sig?" Edgar asked quietly

"Yeah?"

Edgar whispered, "Can you put your arm around me?"

Sig promised himself he'd try to get through this without crying, at least until he was back in his own room. That promise lasted about two minutes because he felt the tears start to burn his eyes at that question. "Sure, kid" he coughed slightly, "Anything."

Sig put his arm around his brother and pulled him closer. Edgar snuggled against him the best he could, just gaining strength from the physical contact.

Edgar heard his brother's words - _Never be afraid to ask me anything_. He whispered in a shaky voice, "Will you stay with me, even after it's over?"

Sig leaned in and whispered in his brother's ear, "Always."

Edgar felt the tears start to burn his own eyes. "I'm sorry, so sorry, Sig." Edgar whispered tearfully and with such regret it hurt to hear. Sig could tell Edgar was getting upset again and he knew that he was no longer comforting his brother by hesitating. Still, Sig promised Edgar he'd always tell him what was going to happen before it happened.

"I know, kid." Sig sighed. "I'm gonna address the other stuff first, just my hand, ok? Not too bad, ok? I'll get you through it. Then we'll address the smoking. And then it's over." _I promise, you'll be able to sleep tonight without worry about the guilt, kid. I won't let you make yourself sick over it._

"Yes, sir" Edgar choked out in a whisper, grasping harder around the edge of the bed.

The first swat fell hard and, despite the protection of the jeans, it took Edgar's breath away for just a second. Then he became firm in his resolve to take this punishment much better than the last time. He was planning on being stoic, quiet and respectful during the entire process.

~tbc


	22. The Best Medicine

**Readers****: I cannot thank you enough for the wonderful reviews. A lot of people are reading this story but only some decide to review, which I respect. The reviews that have been left have warmed my heart. It is nice to know my little family story has entertained a few people in this world. **

**Warning****: This chapter contains spanking of a teenager. If that offends, please feel free to skip this chapter or this story altogether.**

**A/N****: Some readers have wondered why Edgar doesn't just tell his brothers the truth. Keep in mind, he is only thirteen years old and doesn't think like an adult. He also just lost his mother and his worst fear is losing someone else he loves. It doesn't help that he is quite stubborn when it comes to protecting his family, just like his big brothers.**

**Request****: Also, I have no Beta so please forgive errors – no one seemed to catch that I had Sig putting his class ring on the wrong finger of his brother. I corrected it. Any Betas out there want to help me?**

**Happy Holidays to you and yours!**

* * *

Sig felt the first few tears slide down both sides of his face. He brushed them away with either shoulder, one at a time, and tried to focus on what he was doing.

That was the problem. He didn't want to focus on what he was doing.

"I hate this." Sig whispered softly under his breath. The words had just slipped out. Sig hoped his brother didn't hear them over the loud swatting sounds of his hand making contact with his brother's jean-covered bottom.

Edgar had unfortunately heard his brother's words but was careful to make no outward indication of it. Those words had only served to make the guilt he was feeling worse and the knot in his stomach twisted.

_It makes me sick that he feels bad about this. _Edgar strengthened his resolve to take this punishment well because he felt he truly deserved it. In his mind, he felt he deserved much worse.

Edgar lay still and quiet, taking his punishment the best he could. His big brother's hand was heavy and hard from working at the docks and the sting was starting to build. The protection of the jeans was long forgotten and now only served to retain the heat on his bottom. Sig wasn't swatting him quickly but seemed to be making each swat count. When he was on his fifteenth swat, Edgar flinched slightly against his brother's side.

Sig felt the flinch and stopped for a few seconds. He squeezed his brother a little tighter and then released his hold. It was simply a slight hug communicating his love before things got bad. Sig looked at his brother and noticed that Edgar's shoulders relaxed a little. But he couldn't see Edgar's face, only a head full of shaggy, light brown hair that needed to be washed. Edgar was still burying his head in the nook of his left arm, his right hand in a fist and tucked firmly under his chin. It was impossible to tell what state the kid was in and that worried Sig quite a bit. _Stay with me kid. _

Sig left his arm loosely around his brother's lower back, just providing a sense of security. He began swatting again, trying very hard not to swat the same spot twice in a row.

Sig wanted to get this over with quickly but he wouldn't be lolled into a false sense of protection provided by his brother's jeans. They were thin, worn out summer jeans and probably didn't provide much protection in the long run anyway. Sig was just as careful and concerned about leaving long-term damage to his brother's backside as he was the first time.

As the sting built, Edgar wondered how he made it through this with just his boxers on last time. He was shocked at how much of a sting his brother could create with just his hand.

_Oh that's right. I thought about something else. _Edgar started rubbing the coveted class ring with his thumb, feeling his brother's high school insignia and coat of arms. The blue stone was set higher but flat across and Edgar liked the feeling of the smooth, cold glass against his skin. Although the stone was glass, the 14 carat gold must have cost a fortune, at least in Edgar's thirteen year old mind. In reality, the ring was worth a few hundred dollars. A lot for the time, but hardly a fortune.

What the ring lacked in monetary value was made up in the extreme sentimental worth the ring carried. By far, the most important part of the ring was the engraving on the inside. Edgar could almost make out the words pressed against his right index finger. One of which was the word _mom._

Edgar immediately stopped thinking about the ring because it was now causing painful thoughts. Instead, he went back to thinking about the painful swatting that was currently happening because those thoughts hurt less than thoughts of mom.

Sig had started concentrating on the lower part of the poor backside lying across his lap. Edgar's flinching started to increase. Sig knew it was hurting because his own hand, already sore from hard labor and tough with callouses, was burning.

Yet, Edgar only flinched occasionally but remained totally silent.

If Sig didn't know better, he would have thought that his brother wasn't in any pain or discomfort. Sig swatted his brother fairly hard, giving him at least thirty swats so far and he felt this part was almost done.

Anyone else administering this spanking would have swatted the kid raw, thinking they weren't making enough of an impression. The kid was so reserved and stoic, like nothing was happening and he was just taking a light nap.

Thankfully, Sig knew better. The brothers had trained themselves at an early age to deal with all kinds of pain. Between trying to impress their father with their manly toughness and the beatings they gave each other on occasion, pain was like a welcomed challenge. Edgar probably had the highest pain tolerance of them all.

Sig thought to himself: _I can only image how much this is hurting him. Why does he have to fight so hard to keep it in? Don't you trust me yet, kid? Can't you show me how you are feeling without being worried about what I think? You've cried in my arms three times this week alone. I never once made fun of you for it or treated you badly afterwards. I know you are hurting on the inside too. Please just let it out, kid. It's better than sucking it down and letting it make you sick._

Sig stopped for a moment. Actually, he was stalling but used the break as an opportunity.

"Edgar," he asked softly, "Do you know why I am punishing you?" Sig was just looking for some kind of response. He was hoping for some kind of indication how the kid was doing so he knew if Edgar needed to talk about things before this punishment moved on.

Edgar only nodded.

Sig didn't want to make his brother relive all his offenses like last time because they had been discussed beforehand. Last time, there was so much discussion about how, where and who, there wasn't time to discuss what the kid had done to earn that spanking. This time, the air had been cleared ahead of time.

Unfortunately, Sig now had to push to get some kind of verbal response. "Tell me why I'm punishing you." Sig asked gently.

Edgar swallowed hard. He started thinking about all the lies he told his brother and the promise he broke. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. He was protecting his family. _How could that be wrong_? Now, he felt awful about all of it._ I'm in over my head. But it's too late to turn back now. I caused all of this, because I was such a bad kid after mom died and now my past is catching up with me. _

Edgar turned his head to the side, towards the nightstand and rested his chin on his fist. He intended to answer correctly, the right answer being _because I disobeyed you_. Instead, "Because I'm a bad kid." Edgar whispered out loud.

Sig's mind sailed back to mentally review all his promises, especially the one about being calm and patient during this process. Otherwise, he would have swatted his brother in anger. Because right now, he downright livid.

With fine instinct beyond his years, Sig removed both hands from his brother's person. He placed them on either side of the bed, closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.

Edgar immediately sensed he made a big mistake because he felt his brother tense. He got scared when Sig removed as much physical contact between them as possible. _Wrong answer. Shit, now he's mad and I am in the worse possible position for that to happen. _

Despite being intensely angry, Sig knew his brother was probably scared and, of course, in pain. It was better to talk to him then just sit there in silence. That would only make things worse.

"Please do NOT ever say that to me…ever again. Don't even think it cause then you'll start to believe it." Sig explained slowly, "It infuriates me, Edgar."

Sig had to stop and breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. When he was ready, Sig continued, "You are so freaking far from being a bad kid, I should find it hysterical that you just said that. But, I think you meant it and that really pisses me off, kid. Big time." Sig actually growled a little, like a big blond bear.

Edgar had the guts to respond, heedless of his precarious situation. "But I'm here, over your lap, getting punished." Edgar whined. "…And I had told myself I wasn't going to find myself here again this summer…that I wasn't going to do that to you or me…but…" Edgar paused.

"But what?" Sig asked through clenched teeth.

"I only made it six days…What does that say?" Edgar asked in a whisper.

Sig actually laughed out loud, his toned belly rolling. The laughter helped significantly in defusing his anger. "It says you have lousy timing." Then he added firmly but with a smile his brother could not see, "That's all it says. It does NOT mean you are a bad kid. Don't read more into it, please, Edgar...it means nothing."

"But…" Edgar wanted to argue his logic.

Sig cut him off quick. _Kid picks the worse times to get stubborn with me_. "No. You have to listen to me on this. Actually you have to listen to me on a lot of things."

Edgar felt a warm hand slip under his shirt, touching the skin of his middle back lightly. His brother's hand was rough and slightly cracked from hard labor but the feeling of skin touching skin was like a reinforcement of the bond between them.

"Edgar," Sig said carefully, his voice full with emotion, "I cannot imagine how difficult it is for you to have your oldest brother be the authority in your world, even if it is for only a little while. I only know how hard it is for me because I love just being your big brother. I hate being the bad guy."

Edgar raised his eyes back to his brother the best he could and started to protest strongly, "Sig, you're not the bad guy. I don't mind that you're in charge right now, honest I don't."

Sig gave his brother a sad smile back. He started kneading his hand against his brother's small back, like a cat kneading a soft blanket.

Sig ignored his brother's protests and went on, "Edgar, it's an adjustment for both of us, just admit it. But someone has to be there to catch you when you fall. Somebody's gotta lay the law down when it's been broken. I hate doing it but someone has too. That's life, kid. For every action, there is a reaction. When you get older…" Sig stopped himself. This was too much of a lecture and he was too close to his own childhood to remember how much he hated the 'you'll understand when you're older' statement.

Sig changed his course. "Of course you're gonna make mistakes. We talked about this. All kids do, remember. Doesn't mean you are bad, just normal. I also doesn't mean I think any less of you." Sig stopped himself, took a deep breath and shared his next thought out loud, "And there is no way in hell I'm letting you think any less of yourself. So do NOT say that to me again. End of discussion."

Edgar wanted the discussion to continue. "Sig?"

"Ed..garrr?" Sig responded low, showing his frustration a tat.

Edgar decided to cut his losses. _My brother will never understand how I am feeling._

So Edgar began in a respectful, quiet voice, "I disobeyed you and I am really sorry about it because I don't ever want you to think I don't respect you. I do, very much. _(More than anyone_.) I broke my grounding, missed my curfew and didn't tell you where I was going. (_There was a great reason for it, too. Can't tell you, though_.) I'm sorry you were worried about me. (_Hated doing that_.) I tried to hide where I was going because I didn't want you to find out and be mad at me. (_Shit, ain't that the truth_.) I also didn't listen and I smoked. (_Maybe it was some kind of test. No doubt you'll pass because you got straight A's in school, unlike me.)_"

Edgar stopped, closed his eyes and prayed he got it all right because it's hard to keep up the lies after a while. He also started to feel the burning sting in his eyes because he was feeling a lot of different emotions at once. _Nope, not going to cry this time. I want to show my brother I am just as tough as he is._ But Edgar felt he was beginning to lose this pointless battle with himself.

"That would be the correct answer." Sig said with a sigh. He took his left hand off his brother's back.

Edgar panicked a little, not liking the loss of the physical contact. _Is the bond over, then?_ He asked with slight fear in his voice, "Are you still angry?"

"No, Edgar. I'm not angry anymore. You can rest assure, I'll never do this in anger." Sig said firmly.

"Dad did…once" Edgar whispered, remembering how scared he had been after the shed caught on fire. He started trembling from the memory.

Sig whispered, "The shed?"

Edgar nodded, looking at the nightstand and trying to forget about that terrible moment.

"I'm sorry that happened. Dad made a mistake, a big mistake, that time." Sig said quietly. He felt his brother shaking and he moved his left hand to the back of his brother's hair, stoking it gently to keep the kid calm and help him feel reassured. As he stroked his brother's hair, Sig whispered, "Twenty with a strap is too much, Edgar."

"He was sooo angry, Sig. I was really scared. I'd never seen him like that." Edgar whispered back, one lone tear slipping down his face.

"Edgar, that was the last licking dad gave any of us. I think he knows he made a mistake. Maybe that's just what I want to believe. It might help if you believed that, too." Sig offered hopefully.

Edgar quickly wiped away the tear and pushed away the memory of that licking. He thought about his father. _Maybe Sig is right. Maybe dad did know he crossed a line. I doubt it, though. He could be really tough on us sometimes_. "Dad made a mistake ripping up your permit in front of you, Sig. He shouldn't have done that. I know you think you deserved it…but you didn't deserve that." Edgar said in his own firm voice.

Sig's mind raced back to three years ago and that horrible day._ I know. It was one of the most humiliating moments in my life. Why didn't dad just put it in his pocket and throw it away later. Why did he make me watch that? I worked so fucking hard that summer. I studied every day! And then I made one stupid mistake. A big mistake but I never got the chance to explain._ Sig had to force his own tears down. It helped now knowing that someone in this world understood how he felt at that moment.

With a sigh of self-collection, Sig whispered, "Thanks, bro. That means a lot to me, maybe more than you know," as he ruffled the kid's hair a bit before removing his left hand and replacing on the small of his brother's back.

Edgar correctly sensed it was time for the punishment to move one. The fire on his backside had diminished a bit during their brief talk but a low sting remained. He asked respectfully, "Are you…almost done…with the first part, I mean?"

"Yes, almost done." Sig said regretfully. He sighed and then said in a stern voice, "You disobeyed me, Edgar and I can't have it. It's my role to keep this family safe. And I can't do that if you disobey me. Do you…understand that?" _Please understand, kid. I hate being stern with you but there is a good reason. I need to keep you safe and if punishing you helps you understand how serious I am about that, then that's what I have to do...I'm sorry._

"Yes, sir." Edgar answered softly but clearly. _You're not the only one who can keep this family safe, bro._

Sig put a comforting arm around his brother. Before Edgar could tense up, Sig raised his right hand. He didn't hesitate in giving Edgar twenty hard swats, without pause, all on both sit spots and very upper tights.

Edgar screwed his eyes shut and winced involuntarily. His shoulders hitched and he grasped the edge of the bed tightly, trying just to breath and keep himself as still as possible. A few broken gasps escaped his lips and a whimper slipped out towards the end.

Sig heard the soft whimper and knew clearly the kid had enough of this. He wasn't going to push him to cry, although he strongly believed Edgar needed to cry at some point. The kid needed to cry the minute the mixing bowl had gotten filled. Yet, Edgar continued to hold it all in, like there were so many things bothering him at once. His emotions were all bottled up and couldn't get released without a complete breakdown.

As quickly as they started, the swats stopped. Sig returned to rubbing his brother's back over his shirt, trying to comfort him the best he could.

Edgar's breath was coming in painful hitching and he fought hard to keep the tears in. The sting was making his eyes burn as badly as his bottom and he tried to focus on the comforting hand on his back instead.

"Edgar" Sig called his name softly, "That's over. Take your time. I won't paddle you just yet." He needed to reassure his brother that nothing else was happening right now so he could try and relax.

Edgar's voice was barely above a whisper, very shaky and broken, but he managed to ask, "Sir, may I…get up a minute? I need to…understand something first…and I'd like to…talk to you, face to face. _Man to man is more like it. _It will only take…a few minutes. I'm not trying…to dodge anything."

"Absolutely," Sig was very curious. He knew Edgar wasn't the type to shy away from his consequences so this wasn't a ploy to delay the evitable. Sig was also more than willing to talk some more if his brother was still confused or just needed more of an explanation.

Edgar raised himself up his arms and slid carefully off his brother's lap. When he got his feet to the floor, Sig gently guided him to stand between his knees. Edgar's first natural reaction was to rub his burning backside and almost forgot how rude that would have been. He stopped his hands at his hips, realizing what he was doing. He looking up shamefully at his oldest brother.

Sig saw the motion and felt his heart break. _I did that. I caused that pain_. Sig dropped his blue eyes to the ground, not able to look at the green ones in front of him. He was just as ashamed as Edgar but for different reasons.

Edgar quickly moved his hands away from his backside and placed each one on either of his brother's knees so he wouldn't be tempted to rub away the tremendous sting.

Sig wanted to die. "You can rub…I don't care, Edgar. Jesus, I'd do it myself if it wasn't so damn inappropriate." Sig said in a whisper, still looking at the ground with his face turning red. He was embarrassed to say it but he said it anyway.

Edgar stared at his oldest brother for a second, trying to figure out of Sig was serious. Then he broke out in laughter, almost doubling over and holding his stomach. Sig finally looked up at him. Edgar flashed him that famous, movie-star smile, all perfect teeth and dancing green eyes. Sig had to laugh back because Edgar's laughter was known to be contagious when he really let lose.

Sig put out his arms and Edgar responded without hesitation. He remained standing but Edgar threw his arms around his big brother's neck and hugged him tightly. Sig hugged him back, just as tight. They were both laughing so hard, they had tears rolling down their faces and Edgar forgot about the sting. No surprise considering laughter is known to be the best medicine.

It was utterly ridiculous. Both of them hugging, laughing and crying during such a difficult time. During what should have been a very serious and stern course of discipline, no less. But it was just their way. The two of them would always find a way to get through the most difficult times together. It was just a moment between brothers that lost so much and finally found a way back.

~tbc


	23. The Monster In The Next Room

Norman put his beloved truck in drive and pulled out of the hardware store parking lot of like his tires were on fire. He didn't care that he went over the speed limit most of the way home. He just needed to talk to his little brother as soon as possible.

_I fucked up, plain and simple. I should have never done that to him. I humiliated him. It doesn't matter how angry or hurt I was. And I need to talk to him, NOW. I need to apologize and I hope Edgar can forgive me. I need to apologize to my older brother, too, because I treated him like shit. There is so much I have to say to both of them._

Norman made it home in record time. He was damn lucky he didn't pass the local cops, who surely would have pulled him over for speeding. As Norman was speeding down the street, heading in the direction of home, it started to rain.

* * *

When the laughter in Edgar's bedroom had died down to mere giggles, both oldest and youngest brother heard the first drops of rain hitting the glass window.

Without pulling away from his brother, Edgar turned his head and looked outside.

"Bad storm coming, they say," Sig said, looking out the window too. He rubbed Edgar's back reassuringly, "Suppose to be a good one. A Northwestern that should last till Sunday, at least."

For just a moment, Edgar sagged slightly against his brother in relief. _Thank God I won't have to come up with some lie to cover my tracks tomorrow. I won't have to go down there and race. I'm free…at least temporarily._ Then Edgar pulled away from Sig so they could look each other in the face.

"Sig, I need to talk to you about something." Edgar said quietly, shifting his feet back and forth a little.

Sig just nodded his encouragement, "You can talk to me about anything, kid. You know that."

Edgar looked down at his hands and started twisting Sig's class ring back and forth on his finger. Sig hid a smile. He'd done the same thing a hundred times when he was nervous.

Edgar was hesitating and finally Sig reached out and stopped the ring twisting with a gently hand. "What? Tell me. I'm listening," he said quietly.

Edgar searched his brother's face, looking for the courage he desperately needed. He began slowly, "Sig, you never mentioned the money."

"What money?" Sig asked with a questioning shrug.

Edgar swallowed but answered clearly, "The money that you left me for lunch."

"What about it, Edgar?" Sig shrugged again.

"I stole it." Edgar whispered, looking ashamed. His eyes dropped to the floor.

Sig pulled his eyebrows together in a frown. "You didn't steal it. I left it for you, remember?"

Edgar started rubbing at his face. "You left it for me to get pizza, not to buy cigarettes. But I did buy cigarettes with it." Edgar kept looking down at the floor and said quietly, "I stole your money…are you gonna punish me for that, too?"

Sig stopped his brother's hand from rubbing his face for the second time. He held the offending hand and shook it a little. Sig was starting to understand where this was going. "Edgar, please, I don't care about the money. Pay me back if you want. But don't get upset over it," Sig explained firmly.

Edgar squared his shoulders and looked his brother in the eye. "I will pay you back, I swear. But I still stole your money and nothing you can say will convince me that I didn't, Sig." He added quietly, "I feel awful about it. You work so hard."

Edgar took his brother's hand, the one that just moments ago had punished him, and turned it over. The callouses, bruises and broken skin were apparent to the naked eye and looked as painful as they must have felt. Edgar realized his brother must have caused additional pain to his hand by allowing him to keep the jeans on. _Why, Sig, why? You should have let me have it over just the boxers cause that's what I deserved. Why do you gotta sacrifice for me all the time?_ The thought only fueled Edgar's resolve for this conversation.

"See how hard you work," Edgar said strongly, showing his brother his own hand. "Every day, you bust your ass at those docks and I know some of that money goes to keeping us afloat."

Sig raised an eyebrow that clearly said, _you're on dangerous ground, little brother._

Edgar ignored the non-verbal message and continued, "I know you paid for things dad forgot about after mom died. I know you still pay for a lot of stuff around here because dad's short on cash, not working and all." Edgar copped a bit of the teenage attitude of 'I know more than you think.'

Sig didn't deny it because it was true. Yet, he didn't confirm it either. He did give his brother a hard, cautious look.

Edgar blanched a little under the glare but continued in a firm voice, "And I wasted your money, Sig. On cigarettes…that I ended up smoking. And I was totally planning on lying about it, too. That's why I didn't leave a note. I would have slipped out of the house, bought the cigarettes, given them to Nick and then gotten home before you." Edgar voice grew stronger, "Then I would have told you I stayed home all day and I ordered pizza for lunch. I would have completely lied to your face." Edgar took his hand back from his brother's and folded his arms in front of him.

The teenage attitude of 'you don't know how bad I can be' was seeping out of him.

Sig wanted to laugh but now was not the time. His brother was trying to be so tough and honest. It would have been insulting to him for Sig to laugh in his face.

"Soooo, you think I should punish you for the money you 'think' you stole and lies you didn't tell me?" Sig asked with his best straight face.

_Wow, big bro, did you just hit the nail on the head_. Edgar nodded slowly, not sure why he was doing this to himself. "Yes, cause it's only fair. Can't punish me for disobeying you and then not for stealing and almost lying to you."

Sig came up with a plan in a hurry because this couldn't drag on any longer. "Ok, I'll punish you for the stolen (stolen was put in air quotes by the eldest brother) money and for the imaginary lies you were thinking about telling me. But you, little brother, must respect my decision…without complaint. You don't get a say in your punishments. Unfortunately, that's 100% my department and I'm always going to err on the lesser side of things. Deal with it. I'm the captain of this ship (Sig pointed around to the entire house), you're just a deckhand, remember that."

"Fine." Edgar answered smartly, cocking one hip to the side.

Sig raised an eyebrow that clearly said; _don't push it with the attitude._

This non-verbal message Edgar adhered too. "Yes, sir" Edgar re-phrased his answer quickly and stood up straight. _What the hell is wrong with me? Where is this attitude coming from? Show your brother the respect he deserves. _

Sig couldn't help himself. He had to know. He asked, "Just because now the curiosity is killing me, what would be a fair punishment for these 'crimes'…in your mind?"

Edgar didn't need to think about. He answered sincerely, "No jeans, paddle for the smoking and your belt for the stealing."

Sig was momentarily stunned and his mouth dropped open for a second. Recovering slowly, he pointed his finger in Edgar's chest and said, "And that is why you are not in charge." _And I am, thank God_. _Kid, you are a hundred times harder on yourself then I'll ever be. _

Edgar looked hurt by the comment. He was trying so hard to be honest and he told his brother the truth about how he felt. Instead of understanding, he got a smart ass response.

Sig ignored the hurt in his brother's eyes. 'Edgar," Sig explained gently, "I'm not using my belt on you."

"Why not? Dad's been doing essentially the same thing for years." Edgar asked.

Sig was so done with this discussion. He didn't want to get into an argument with Edgar about dad versus oldest brother right now. He just wanted to get this over with. At this point, any more explaining was going to lead to more explaining.

Sig steeled his heart and got tough. _Kid wants to feel better. Ok, I won't deny him that_. Sig looked Edgar straight in the eye. "Ok, for stealing the money I gave you, you've lost your allowance for the next two weeks and you are making dinner tomorrow. I'm sick of cooking anyway."

Edgar immediately opened his mouth to protest but Sig put his hand over his brother's mouth. "No, no complaining. I'm the one in charge. Do NOT say a word until I am finished. At least give me that respect."

They stayed froze in that position for a minute and then Edgar nodded, accepting what he felt was a very light punishment. As much as he wanted to complain that it wasn't enough, he'd disobeyed his brother enough for one night. Also, he was not about to be disrespectful again.

Sig nodded back and removed his hand. "Now," he said quietly, "I'm giving you nine licks with the paddle, across my lap and OVER your jeans…" Edgar again opened his mouth but shut it quickly, remembering to be respectful.

Sig continued, "Nine for each cigarette that you smoked tonight, no more."

"Now that I have laid it all out, is there anything else I missed?" Sig asked sincerely. _Can we please just do this so I can honor my warning and be a man – you know, a manly man who follows through on his word and then goes and then cries himself to sleep when no one is looking. _

"What about almost lying to you?" Edgar asked quietly.

"You don't get punished for almost doing something, Edgar." Sig said, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

Edgar just sighed. He realized he was looking for an absolution that would never happen. Nothing he could say was going to make his tough but fair oldest brother change his mind about this punishment. Sig didn't know enough of what really happened in the past few hours to justify anything harsher than nine licks with a paddle. Sure, they'd sting, but it wasn't going to be enough in Edgar's mind to atone for his wrongdoings.

Before moving around to the right side of his brother's knees, Edgar took off the class ring and handed it back to Sig. He could wear it now without need for worry.

Sig slipped the ring back on the designated finger, a little sad that Edgar was so quick to give it up. _Maybe it's a good thing. Kid knows that the effects of this punishment wouldn't last that long. Unlike last time, by tomorrow, the kid won't be the least bit uncomfortable_. For that, Sig was very grateful.

Edgar stood at his brother's side. This time, he hesitated.

It was the hesitation Sig had expected earlier. "You OK?" He asked gently. Although Sig wanted to get it over with, maybe Edgar did need more time.

Edgar looked over at the soft, fleece blanket resting on the edge of the bed. He leaned over slightly and slipped the paddle out from under it. He held it in his hand for a moment, wondering where the thing came from. Maybe Sig knew so Edgar asked him, "Do you know where mom got this?"

"No," Sig explained, "I'm guessing it came down from her side of the family. Like some kind of family heirloom, or something, passed down from one generation to the next. It's pretty old, I think."

"Sig," Edgar said in a whisper, his eyes wide, "You don't think granddad used it on mom when she was a kid, do you?"

Sig laughed a good chuckle, "No way, little brother. She was an angel."

Somewhere in heaven, a real angel giggled softly.

Sig paused for a moment, thinking. "But, from what I heard, mom's brothers were pretty rowdy growing up. Shame we didn't get to meet them before they died in Vietnam. Bet they would have had a lot of good stories to tell us," Sig said with a smile.

"I'm sure none of which mom would have wanted us to hear." Edgar said, handling the paddle over to his brother. Sig immediately put in back down on the bed, on top of the blanket this time. Touching it was like touching a cactus.

"Yeah, mom would have said that her brothers would have given us too many bad ideas." Sig finished Edgar's thought. "Although we came up with a lot just fine on our own." He added with a wry smile.

Edgar paused, looking at the paddle his brother clearly didn't want to touch until he had too. Looking back at Sig, Edgar asked, "Can I ask one last question? I know you're tired. You worked all day and just want…"

Sig put his hand up to his brother's face, stopping him. "Edgar, I could go without sleep for a week and still do this my way, ok? You can always ask me anything you want. You may not like the answer but I'll always be completely honest with you. What's the question?"

Edgar dropped his eyes and asked quietly, "Would you ever…use your belt?"

Sig's blue eyes filled up with tears, just a little. The question alone broke his heart in two. Sig didn't want Edgar seeing him crying and getting upset so he simply took his little brother's hand and guided him over his lap. He wasn't mean about it, just very quiet and gentle and Edgar complied with grace.

_Ok, he's not gonna answer that question. Shit, shouldn't have asked_.

Edgar rested his head in his crossed arms and waited. He expected the punishment to begin quickly. Instead, he felt Sig's right hand on his back, his left ruffling his hair.

Sig leaned over and whispered in his brother's ear, "Edgar, the day I take off my belt and use it on you is the day the mountains of Dovre crumble."

Edgar knew a vow when heard one. It was like flipping a coin when you didn't know what you wanted. When you asked for heads and got tails, you knew in your heart what you really wanted all along. _I don't want him to use his belt. Why would I ever think it? How could I have asked him that? It's not his way. That's dad's way. And Sig ain't dad_. Washed over with relief, Edgar knew finally what he really wanted. He wanted to feel safe again. And the safest place in this world was in his brothers' arms.

The first real sob, full of tears, came out. Like floodgates that opened, the first sob was followed by many.

Sig was done hesitating. "Edgar, we're getting this over with quick. Not because I'm tired and not because I'm mad. I'm getting it over with quickly because I want nothing more right now than to just freaking hold you. That's the kind of man I want to be, the kind I like being. Not the kind of man I have to be right now."

Sig didn't look back to see Edgar nod through the sobs. He put a gentle arm around his brother and Edgar managed to relax, going completely limp and letting his brother take his full weight. Sig picked up the paddle by the handle and gave his brother the first of nine hard licks.

* * *

Norman put the truck in park, shutting off the engine and running through the pouring rain to the house. He jumped over the porch steps and almost slammed into the back door. Thankfully, no one remembered to lock it.

He figured he was gone long enough. The punishment must have been long over by now. _Geez, how long could it take, right?_

Pushing the door open, Norman was greeted by a dark kitchen. As he flipped on the light, he was then greeted by mom's good mixing bowl and a stone-cold cup of tea. In a hurry not to look at it, Norman dumped the contents of the bowl into the trash, leaving the bowl and tea cup in the sink. _I'll get the dishes in the morning_.

As he raced through the living room and up the steps, taking two steps at a time, he was in full speed to get to Edgar's room.

When he got to the top of the steps, Norman heard the sound of the first painful lick of the paddle. He froze in place, hand on the banister, afraid to move. Upon the second lick, Norman flinched hard. On the third, he felt his heart clenched hard in his chest. He could hear pitifully sobbing between licks and a gut-wrenching yelps immediately after.

Norman sat down at the top of the steps before he collapsed and tumbled down the stairs. There was no point in running. It was too late. There was no place in the house to hide where he wouldn't hear any of those heartbreaking sounds.

Covering his mouth to muffle his own sobs, Norman leaned against the railing and let the hot tears flow down his face. Each lick made him jump, causing him to bite down on his fingers to keep from crying out. A new set of two tears fell after each soft yelp and Norman tried not to count but it was impossible. The licks were at six and Norman prayed hard after each one that he wouldn't hear another. Every big brother instinct was pushing him to protect his little brother. All the bones in his body were screaming at him to crash through the bedroom door and punch the lights out of whoever was hurting his baby brother.

_How can Sig do this and keep going, listening to Edgar cry like that? How could I have told Sig not to feel guilty about something like this? I feel so fucking guilty just listening and knowing I wanted the kid to get punished. I can't imagine the amount of guilt and hurt actually do it brings. It's one thing to think or say this needs to be done; it's another to actually hear it. _

At the eighth lick, Norman sent a silent prayer to both his brothers; one to Edgar for strength and comfort and one to Sig to please stop. _Please stop, Sig, please. He's crying so hard. He's sorry, I know he is. He won't do it anymore. I'll gladly take the rest myself on his behalf. Done that a few times in my life. More than once, I took the heat from dad knowing my little brother was the one that screwed something up, like broke a lamp or whatever. You did too, Sig. A lot. For him and me, in fact_.

By the ninth lick, Norman was on his feet, fists clenched at the ready and was headed to the bedroom door. Ten was the limit in Norman's mind. Anything more and the door was indeed going to get broken down this night.

As Norman approached the door, all he heard was silence. He stopped and waited. A small thud, like something falling on the floor was the next sound he heard. A few moments went by. There were no more painful sounds of the paddle, just soft, muffled sobbing. No doubt, Sig was providing the comfort that the three of them so longed for at this moment. Norman exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping in relief, his fists unclenching. He wiped the remaining tears off his face with the back of his hands.

Then, he heard his younger brother's voice. Norman couldn't make out what was being said so he moved in closer to the door. Norman put an ear up to the door and dismissed the slight guilt he felt eavesdropping on this tender moment between his brothers. He justified the action by telling himself he just wanted to make sure Edgar was ok.

* * *

Edgar scrambled off Sig's lap in seconds. Sig only had time to toss the paddle to the floor and hide it under the bed. Before he knew it, Edgar was off his lap and now standing in front of him. Tears were streaming down the kids face.

Sig reached up to him but Edgar backed away. "No," he said between sobs, standing there on shaky legs, "I need to apologize first."

"Fine." Sig said and grabbed Edgar, pulling him onto his lap, shifting his backside into the comforter and draping his legs over Sig's left thigh. Sig put his arms around his youngest brother and held him tightly. He whispered, "You can apologize from right here."

Edgar wrapped his arms around his brother and buried his face into crook of Sig's neck. He got out, "I'm sorry, Sig. For all of it. Please just…." before he lost what resolve he had left. Being in his oldest brother's arms seemed to transform him from a tough thirteen-year-old to a little kid in seconds. A little kid that was scared, frightened and just wanted to feel safe for a while. Edgar cried gasping sobs that racked his shoulders and Sig could only hold him tighter.

Sig couldn't whisper quickly enough into Edgar ear, "You are forgiven. For all of it," hoping that those magic words would stop the tears. He assumed these were the words Edgar wanted to hear. That worked out just fine for Sig because the words couldn't be more true.

Yet, the tears kept coming and Sig's heart kept breaking. A few of his own tears slipped out and he whispered, "I'm sorry, too. I always will be."

Edgar whimpered and said again, "Please just…"

Sig nuzzled his nose against his brother's temple, "Please just what, Edgar?"

Edgar said between hitches of breath, "Please…just…hold…me."

Sig squeezed him hard to his chest, "I am, kid. I can't hold you any tighter." _Maybe the kid is trying to ask for some other kind of reassurance_. Sig didn't hesitate to say, "I love you."

It was those three little words that made Edgar drop his guard for a second. "I'm so afraid, Sig." Edgar said so low, Sig had to strain to hear him, despite their close proximity. _I'm scared of those guys, Sig. I am so frightened. Please, I'm really scared. This isn't some nightmare where I'm gonna wake up and everything will be fine. Hold me because I'm not gonna make it out._

For Sig, it wasn't what his brother said but how he said it. _I'm so afraid_. Not I was afraid but I am. Those words transported Sig back to another time, a long forgotten memory.

*******Sig's Flashback – Halloween 1977*******

"I wanted to go with, Sig!" a six-year-old Edgar whined as Sig and his super cool eleven-year-old friends stood in front of the haunted house. Edgar was bouncing around his oldest brother like a puppy.

Sig rolled his eyes. His youngest brother was the biggest pest in the world, constantly following Sig around wherever he went and having crying fits when he couldn't go with him.

"Come on, Sig. Just leave 'em here." Andy Hillstrand commanded, getting tired of waiting. The rest of the group started on towards the front of the haunted house, tickets in hand and ready to have a great time.

Sig knelt down in front of Edgar so that he could look him in the eye. The bright, green eyes in front of him were full of hope and anticipation. Sig said desperately, "Just go sit with Norman and wait for me. You ain't gonna like it anyway." _Please don't ruin what should be a good time with my friends. I just want to have fun for once without you up my ass._

Edgar glanced over at his ten-year-old brother sitting on the bench at the exit of the ride. Norman had refused to go in, not at all fond of small spaces and the feeling of being trapped. A haunted house always provided that kind of environment and Norman would rather risk losing some 'man-points' in front of Sig and his friends before voluntarily going into a place like that.

"No, Sig. I'm tougher than Norman." Edgar said, folding his arms in front of him and stamping his tan Converse sneaker. He jutted his chin out proudly. In Edgar's mind, this was a chance to prove he could hang with the big boys.

Sig mumbled under his breath, "Like to see you tell Norman that to his face."

Edgar just stood his ground. He pouted his little pink lips as only six-year-olds can. "Come on, Sig. Take me in the spooky house with ya, pleeeaaasse," Edgar begged with a high pitched voice. He even added a batted eyelash to emphasize the effect.

Sig looked up and saw that his friends were leaving without him. Time was running out. He looked back at his youngest, annoying brother and muttered, "God damn it, Edgar. Just go and do as I say."

Edgar got a glimmer in his eye, "You said a bad word. I'm gonna tell mommy. She's over at the snack tent." Edgar made a motion to run away. Sig stopped him with his foot.

With wide, pleading eyes, Sig whined a little himself, "Please, buddy, don't. I'm in enough trouble already." Sig's list was growing by the minute this King Crab season, a few things already written in ink and hanging boldly on the refrigerator door.

"Then take me with you and I won't tell," Edgar said smartly.

Blackmail – Edgar's go-to method to get what he wanted. Sig squinted his eyes and furled his brow. He wanted to strangle the little brat but now the kid had him over a barrel.

"Fine," Sig finally relented, "But the minute you start crying, I'm leaving you in there."

Edgar jumped up and clapped his hands with glee. He felt like such a big guy going in with the older kids and, as an added bonus, he just won this debate with his oldest brother. At the time, he was the happiest kid in the world.

Too bad the happiness was short-lived.

Sig grabbed his little brother by the hand and started running to catch up with his friends. Edgar was practically dragged by the arm because it was difficult to keep up with his long-legged oldest brother.

Handing the worker two tickets, one originally designated for the closterphobic middle brother wisely waiting outside, Sig and Edgar entered the black double-doors of the haunted house. When they got through, the doors slammed behind them and Edgar jumped at the noise. Instinctively, he grabbed for his oldest brother's right hand and squeezed hard.

Sig thought, _I knew this was going to be a mistake. I just knew it. Now he's gonna be hangin' on me the whole time._

Long before the days of rides being clearly labeled by age appropriateness, this haunted house was particularly terrifying. The first thing Sig and Edgar came to was a long, dark slide the ended in the unknown. As they both slid down, all hope of leaving out the front door was erased. At the bottom of the slide, they were dropped off in the insane asylum room. Actors were tied to beds, covered in blood and making the most of their minimum wage jobs. The screaming and loud music was deafening and Edgar clung to his brother's arm as they walked down the long, dimly lit corridor.

Sig could barely see his hand in front of him. His friends were long gone and there was no way he was going to catch up with them. _They are probably having a blast. And I'm stuck with you_, Sig thought, glancing down at the shaggy, light brown head by his arm.

The next room was a jail house. 'Prisoners' reached out from beyond their bars and tried to grab them as the brothers passed by. Edgar started to shake and Sig could sense that this was going to end badly. He just continued to pull his little brother along behind him.

The following room contained a bloody murder scene. Some massive man of a guy with a chainsaw, in working order, and dismembered bodies lying convincingly around him was offered as entertainment. Edgar was horrified and buried his face in Sig's arm. The chainsaw man chased the brothers into the next room.

This next room was a reprieve of sorts. Well lit, unlike the rooms before, Sig and Edgar shielded their eyes from the light. When they could finally see, a hall of distorted mirrors and a maze that would make any mouse happy greeted them. As they weaved their way around to the end of this room, both brothers could see the beginning of the narrow hallway for the next room. It was pitch black beyond the next doorway.

Edgar froze in place. Sig tried pulling him along but the kid won't budge an inch. Edgar just stood there and started to cry quietly.

Sig threw his hands up. "Damn it, Edgar. Come on," he screamed at him. Sig was hard pressed to admit that he was scared, too, and just wanted to get out of this evil place as fast as possible.

Edgar only jumped and cried harder at his brother's loud, angry voice. He buried his face in his little hands and shook his shaggy hair.

"Arrh, I warned you!" Sig said in frustration. He started to walk away, leaving a crying, petrified little brother behind him. _Stay in here for all I care. Maybe you'll listen to me from now on. Stop following me wherever I go._

On his fifth step down the dark corridor, Sig's heart got the best of him. The warning was a bluff the minute it was issued. Good thing Sig wasn't a man yet. He was just an eleven-year-old boy that, despite how much his little brother pestered, annoyed and blackmailed him at every turn, Sig could never leave him. _It's damn hard being the oldest._

Turning around, Sig saw his little brother at the end of the mirrored room. Edgar had tears running down his face and his eyes wide in pure terror. He was all alone and frightened.

Sig sighed and returned to the previous room, scooping his terrified little brother up in his arms. Edgar threw his arms around Sig's neck, his legs around his lower back and buried his face in his shoulder. Like a spider monkey, Edgar clung to his brother like he was a life preserver. The kid was trembling like a leaf and Sig just held him tightly.

"Just don't look, Edgar. Keep your eyes closed. I'll let you know when you can open them, ok?" Sig said gently into his brother's ear.

"I'm so afraid, Sig," Edgar whispered in a voice Sig had never heard before. The kid was absolutely terrified. Edgar always wanted to look tough in front of his brothers. For him to admit such fear caused Sig to panic for a moment.

_How could I ever think I would walk away? _"Just hold on to me, ok? No matter what happens," Sig said in a soft, reassuring voice.

"There's a monster in the next room, Siggy," Edgar cried against his brother's chest.

"I got you, kid. I won't let anything happen to you, ever. Trust me?" Sig whispered.

Edgar nodded his head against his brother's chest. Sig never hugged him or held him like this before and Edgar realized he felt totally safe regardless of his current location.

Sig lifted his brother slightly, holding him closer and wrapped one arm around his back, the other over his exposed ear in an effort to drown out the scary sounds. Somehow, Sig managed to carry his brother through the rest of the haunted house. He had to navigate narrow corridors and fend off people trying to grab at him. There was no time for Sig to think about being afraid. His one and only goal was getting his brother outside and into the safe, warm sun.

Several rooms and terrifying moments later, Edgar, the spider monkey, still in his arms, Sig immerged from the haunted house into the afternoon autumn sun. It took several minutes to adjust to the light. When Sig walked down the grated metal steps, carrying his brother in his arms, he came face-to-face with a very blond woman with concerned and worried green eyes.

"Sigurd," his mother scolded, her long, blond hair flowing behind her, "What on earth were you thinking, taking your brother into a place like that? You know better."

Sig dropped his eyes shamefully and kicked the dirt at his feet. He hated making his mother mad. She was right. He should have never taken his little brother with him.

Their mother pulled Edgar from his older brother and held him in her arms. She whispered soft Norwegian words of comfort in his ear. Edgar buried his face in her long, silky hair. Like always, her hair smelled of perfume.

When he could, Edgar pulled away from his mother and whispered, "Mommy, don't be mad at Sig, please. I begged him to take me with. It's my fault."

Sig heard his little brother talking to their mother. He thought, _no, it's my fault, Edgar. I'm the oldest. I sorry you were so afraid and that I almost left you. _

"I'm not mad, baby. Just worried. Were you very scared?" mom asked gently.

"I was…but Sig saved me," Edgar said, looking down at Sig with green eyes that held a new-found respect for this oldest brother.

Sig just smiled at him. _I'll get you through any storm, kid…always._

Norman came along then and saw how shaken his younger brother was, still clinging to their mother. "And you guys made fun of me," he said with a knowing smile.

*******End Flashback*******

_Shit, why did I say that_, Edgar thought seconds after the words slipped out of his mouth. _I am so afraid but I can't tell him why_.

Edgar felt his oldest brother tense every muscle in his body, like a snake coiling up before striking out at some unsuspecting rodent. Sig tightened his hold around his brother and Edgar sensed this was no longer a hold of comfort. This was an involuntary reaction of protection.

"What are you afraid, kid?" Sig said in a voice Edgar couldn't identify. It was a soft voice that had a hard, cold edge to it.

Edgar couldn't answer. He could only cry hard against his brother's chest and shake his head.

Sig was confused. The punishment was over. All was forgiven. Sig had reassured his brother countless times that everything was ok; _you're not a bad kid. I'm not mad. I love you more than life itself._ _Now, it's time to move on. What is there left to be scared of?_

"Edgar," Sig said, lifting his shoulder away from his brother and raising his chin with his hand, "Tell me…what are you afraid of?"

The green eyes that met his blue ones held the same terror he'd seen seven years ago. Sig knew the kid wasn't joking or being over-dramatic. This was true fear in front of him and Sig wanted to lash out at what or whoever was to source of this fear.

Edgar knew he had to come up with something quick because Sig wasn't about to let this go. _What am I afraid of_? Edgar relived the night's events and came up with an honest-to-goodness answer.

"NORMAN HATES ME" Edgar cried out what he thought was the truth. He buried his face back into his brother's shoulder and cried a new round of tears. These were the tears that should have come out the minute he tossed himself across the bed. _I hurt him and I disappointed him…and he cried. Norman never cries. That's how much I hurt him. Now he hates me. _

Sig's protective stance dropped and he just smiled to himself. He was relieved that this intense fear Edgar had had no solid basis in reality.

Sig was about to explain why this fear was completely crazy when the motion of the bedroom door opening silently caught his eye. A horrified seventeen-year-old brother stood in the doorway, tear tracks still visible on his face. Edgar heard nothing and never looked up. He just continued sobbing in his oldest brother's neck.

Sig's heart squeezed in his chest. _Norman came home too early and heard too much, otherwise he wouldn't have been crying on the other side of the door. __I know how much it hurts to hear your little brother being punished. Now it hurts me even more that I was the one giving the punishment this time. Oh, God, Norman…I'm so sorry_. _I know exactly how you feel._

Norman looked desperate and lost, standing there feeling like an intruder, and he almost walked away. It was very clear that Sig had this under control. _I would have never come in if I hadn't heard my name. I don't hate you, kid. I need to tell you that…but I'm sure Sig will explain it just fine._

Norman had one foot out the door when Sig motioned him with a wave of his hand to come closer. With gingerly steps, Norman approached his brother and waited, unsure what he was supposed to be doing.

Sig mouthed soundlessly, "I need to talk to you, then."

Norman nodded.

Sig stood up with his youngest brother in his arms, walked away from the bed slightly and then turned around to face Edgar's bed.

Edgar was still crying and oblivious to his surroundings. He assumed Sig was going to put him to bed, like last time, and stay with him till he fell asleep.

Sig cocked his head to Norman to take the place he had just given up. Norman sat down on the edge of the bed and shrugged his shoulders, communicating his confusion.

Sig gave Norman a half-hearted smile.

Then Sig whispered to Edgar over his crying, "I promised I'd stay with you till the end, kid. Believe me, I want too. I was the one that punished you and it's my right to be the one that comforts you after. But…I can't this time."

Edgar gasped and started grabbing at the back of his brother's shirt, now desperate and frightened he was going to be left alone.

"No, kid," Sig said firmly, "Someone else needs it more than me." And with that, Sig gently deposited his youngest brother into his younger brother's lap, detaching Edgar's arms from around his neck and putting them around Norman's neck.

Edgar felt a large, muscular arm supporting his back and a dry shirt against the side of his face. He looked up, tears running down his cheeks, and found the same blue eyes but a different older brother staring back at him.

"Norman?" Edgar whispered, confused at first.

Norman gathered his brother in his arms and pulled him closer. "Edgar, I'm soooo sorry. Please forgive me. I never meant to humiliate and scare you like that. I lost my temper, kid, and I'm sorry I hurt you," he said, finally relieved of the words that had been pledging him. He continued softly, "I could NEVER hate you, Edgar."

Edgar launched into his own apologizes and begged his older brother to forgive him for smoking. He went on and on, sobbing against Norman's broad chest and blubbering about how upset he was for making Norman so sad. One of the broken, blubbering comments was, "But you never cry."

Sig shot Norman a look with a crooked eyebrow. Norman mouthed, "Don't you dare," over Edgar's buried head to their oldest brother. Sig graceful bowed his head and deciding against sharing with Edgar that Norman does in fact cry. _Tough guy also broke down in my arms three times this week, in one day, as a matter of fact. Norman was crying just minutes ago, too. Because of what I did._ That thought reminded Sig of what was hiding under the bed.

As Edgar was confessing all his worries into his brother's chest, Sig felt this would be a good time to leave. Edgar didn't need him anymore. Now, he had the brother that he really wanted all along.

As quietly as possible, Sig knelt down and reached under the bed. He slipped the paddle out from under it and stood up, ready to leave. Norman was wondering what the hell Sig was doing and watched him carefully.

When the paddle appeared in Sig's hand, Norman's involuntary reaction was to screw his eyes shut, wince and bury his face in his little brother's hair. He held Edgar even tighter. It was a pure reaction of Norman's guilt.

Sadly, Sig misinterpreted the reaction as of one of protection and his heart sank. Norman's reaction made him feel like more of a monster than ever before and Sig couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Sig slinked out of the room, paddle in handed and shut the door softly behind him before anyone saw his own tears.

* * *

Norman held his little brother in his arms and felt just about as terrible as a person could feel. Edgar was still rambling on about being a better little brother and sobbing steadily.

After a while, Norman heard enough. "Stop kid, please. No more tears, alright?" Norman whispered in his ear, "Everything is fine. It ain't worth getting this upset over."

"But," Edgar sniffled, "You and Sig are everything to me. I hate hurting you."

"And I hate that I hurt you," Norman explained quietly, "I'm really sorry you got punished thinking I was mad at you. That had to make things worse and I'm sorry for it, Edgar. I should have never left the house with you that upset. I was worried sick about it. All I wanted to do was get home and talk to you so I could apologize for my behavior. I was so mean to you and you deserve a lot better from me."

Norman's tears started again, thinking of how awful he was to his brothers.

Edgar could feel the hot water coming from above him as it soaked his hair. He pulled away, looking up at this big, muscle-man of a brother.

Norman looked down at him and smiled a little. "See," he said, "I do cry…quite a bit lately, it seems."

Edgar rested his face against his brother's shirt and stopped his tears. His crying was only making Norman feel worse. That and he was getting very tired. Crying seemed to have that effect. "Why is that, Norman? Seems like the three of us are crying all the time now."

Norman didn't respond to the question because the answer was obvious. The answer was all around them and nowhere to be seen. _Mom's gone, buddy, and she's never coming back. I think that's slowly starting to hit all of us. We've been numb for the last six months and we're finally waking up to reality. And this is what we are left with. A father who's gone all the time and a house full of sadness. All we have is each other and we're doing an incredible fine job of making a mess of things, me in particular. _

Taking a deep breath, Norman wiped away his remaining tears and gave his brother one last squeeze. "Come on, it's been a long night and I still got to talk to Sig about some things."

Edgar was jarred out of his sleepiness. "What are you guys gonna talk about?" he asked with trepidation.

"Stuff," was the only answer he got.

Never one to be put off, Edgar pushed on, "What stuff, Norman?"

Norman rolled his eyes and sighed. Trying to be honest without re-upsetting his younger brother, Norman answered, "I'm sure I'll find out soon enough."

"No," Edgar put protective arms around his brother, which was somewhat difficult given the size of Norman's arms and broad chest, "Stay with me. I need you." It was true, but most importantly, Edgar already guessed Norman was in some kind of trouble and was worried that more than talking was about to take place in the next room.

Norman laughed at his little brother's pathetic but sweet gesture of protection. "Oh, come on kid. I'll come back and stay with you tonight but I have to leave for a little while. I'll be right back," he said, trying to appease his brother for the moment.

Edgar refused to budge. Norman easily picked up both himself and Edgar from the seated position and put Edgar on his feet, unwrapping his arms from around his own shoulders. Edgar started to protest but Norman was far too strong and Edgar was far too tired. With the skill of an older brother, Norman took Edgar's shirt off and tossed it onto the closet floor. "Jeans, too, kid. Trust me, you'll feel better." Edgar folded his arms over his bare chest and moved in front of the door, blocking Norman's exit.

_Really? Who are you kidding? I outweigh you by 100lbs. _Norman crossed the room in one step, not hesitating to grab his brother by the belt loop of his jeans, and pulling him closer. Unbuttoning the top button first, Norman gently pushed his brother face first into the bed, tossing his legs up on the other end of the bed. He removed both socks careful and tickled the bare feet, trying to get his brother to laugh. Edgar only moved his feet away and grumbled a curse word in Norwegian.

"Wow, nice language for such a polite kid," Norman said sarcastically.

Edgar only grabbed his pillow, fluffed it and rested his head down, sighing deeply.

Not embarrassed to do it, Norman gently, and with great care, reached slightly down into the waistband of his brother's jeans and slid them off, never once letting the fabric rub against any tender or sore area. Edgar was now just in his boxers and unlikely to leave his bedroom for the night.

With quick movements, Norman tossed off the jeans completely and covered his brother with the soft, fleece blanket at the end of the bed. Edgar reluctantly nestled under the cover and closed his eyes. "Don't go, Norm," Edgar whispered softly.

Norman stayed with Edgar for a few minutes longer, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and rubbing his back lightly over the blanket.

"Feel a little bit better…without the jeans?" Norman asked in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, you did that pretty good, Norm," Edgar mumbled back in a sleepy voice.

"Experience, kid. It's all about experience. I got more lickings over the years than you and Sig combined, remember?" Norman said with a laugh.

"Why is that? You're a good guy," Edgar asked, almost asleep.

Norman was pleased his brother thought so highly of him. "Thanks, kid but, for one, I can't seem to keep my mouth shut and I'm just too damn funny for my own good. Dad never seemed to appreciate my humor, though. Secondly, I like to push dad's buttons, just to get a reaction out of him. It's kind of entertaining for me," Norman explained with honesty.

"That's kind of stupid, Norman," Edgar whispered into his pillow.

"It's a middle child thing. Otherwise, no one would pay me any attention," Norman said, trying to be funny but sounding a little sad.

Edgar thought about the statement through a foggy haze. Before falling completely asleep, he muttered, "But I love you, bror. Me and Sig…dad, too."

"And that is more than enough," Norman whispered to a sleeping brother.

* * *

After making absolutely sure Edgar was asleep, Norman exited the bedroom and left Edgar's door open. Trudging slowing down the hallway, Norman stopped in his room to change into a dry shirt and some comfortable sleep pants. The rain that had begun so innocently was now pounding against the roof of the house and the occasional flashes of distant lightening brightened the dark sky.

Once he dressed, Norman proceeded to Sig's room. He knocked gently on the door but didn't wait for an answer before proceeding in. Sig was sitting at his desk, writing something and kept his back to his younger brother. Norman could see that Sig had changed into a new shirt and sleep pants himself. He had his foot on the chair of the desk, one knee folded in front of him, as he continued to write furiously on little, yellow Post-It notes. The single desk lamp was the only source of light in the room.

Norman assumed he was welcomed in the room because he usually was. Over the years, the two of them spent many hours in Sig's room, plotting and planning their next great adventure. More often than not, Edgar would be left in the hallway, banging on the bedroom door and pleading with his big brothers to let him in.

Sig's bedroom was fairly stark. Long gone were the posters and pendants of his high school football team. Seemed like Sig came home and ripped everything down the day of his high school graduation. Maybe he didn't want to be reminded of those days anymore. Now the room had a few nautical things hanging from the wall and a detailed map of the Bering Sea. His bed, desk and dresser were neatly kept and well organized. Some books, here and there, that were almost all fishing related. Mostly, there were framed picture, lots of pictures, hanging on the wall and sitting on his desk and dresser. All the pictures were of Sig's family, a few of mom and dad together, many of him and his brothers. A large picture of a white crab boat, trimmed in dark blue with the name NORTHWESTERN across the front and under the wheelhouse's windows, hung over the bed. Sig kept mom's high school graduation picture on his dresser, front and center.

Norman looked around for a minute at the pictures he'd seen a hundred times before. The ones that were missing were the ones Norman remembered the most. The now absent pictures were of Sara, Sig's first and only love. Now, she was erased from his life, those photos long ago hidden in a box under his bed.

Norman's eyes glanced over at the picture of mom as a girl and he ran his finger along the glass of the frame. She was tall and beautiful with long, blond hair and dancing green eyes. Quickly, he looked away from that particular picture. At the time of the photo was taken, mom had been the same age he was now and something about that hurt Norman deep inside.

Norman walked over towards his brother's bed, flopping down on the dark, blue comforter and leaning his back against the headboard. He stared at his older brother's back and waited patiently to be addressed. From the minute Norman walked in the room, he sensed wisely the storm outside was not the only one he'd have to face tonight.

Sig continued writing his little notes but Norman could see that the pen in his hand was shaking so badly, it was likely impossible for another living soul to make out the messages. Unlike his own, Sig had handwriting that would make any Catholic nun proud – except for right now.

After a few minutes of silence and list-making, Sig asked without looking back or stopping, "He's asleep?"

"Yes," Norman responded.

"Is he…ok?" Sig asked head down, still writing.

"Yes," Norman responded reassuringly.

Sig stopped writing and put his pen down. _That was a lie for my benefit. The kid is far from ok. He's…hurting…and probably scared_. Looking up out the window and into the storm, Sig asked quietly, "Will you stay with him tonight?"

"Yes, he asked me too," Norman said, adding, "Although I think it should be you this time."

Sig hid a sigh, "He didn't ask for me." Already knowing the answer, Sig asked anyway, "So you and he are…ok?"

"Yes," Norman answered, reaching out and putting a pillow behind his back. Asking in a hesitant voice, he added, "…are you and me…ok?"

Sig didn't reply, only opened his desk drawer and took out a half full carton of cigarettes. Finally turning around from his desk, Sig threw the box at his brother, a little harder than he originally intended. Being a fairly decent baseball player, Norman caught the projectile with cat-like reflexes.

"I'm quitting so you can throw them away," Sig explained, seeing his brother's confused look. Unable to stop himself, he added with venom, "Unless you'd like me to cut them all up into little pieces first?" _Just like my permit._

Norman's face fell, the hurt in his eyes plain to see. Like putting on a mask, Norman pushed the hurt aside and quipped, "Naw, we'd be here all night. Looks like there's a good five or six packs in here." Norman shook the box for dramatic effect. Then, showing his basketball skills, which were sorely lacking, Norman tossed the carton towards the waste basket. He missed, smiling up at his older brother.

"I want them out of my room," Sig growled. He got up from his desk, picked up the carton and threw it back at his brother, this time as hard as he wanted. Sig's eyes were flint hard and dangerous. Norman let the box hit him hard in the chest and bounce back onto the floor.

"Ok, what?" Norman asked, throwing his hands up and raising his voice slightly, "You're pissed off at me. I get it. I mouthed off to you and I hurt our little brother, both long-time List-Worthy offenses. So punish me and then we'll both feel better."

Sig started pacing, his hands shaking, "No, you'd feel better. I'd feel like shit…oh, wait…I already do." Sig continued, getting louder as he went on, "When did I get to be the designated person that everyone comes to so they can get rid of their guilt? Who the hell is going to alleviate MY guilt, Norman? Because I feel like the guiltiest person in the world. I'm fucking sick of this! You know what he (Sig pointed down to Edgar's room) asked me?"

"No, I don't, but do I know that if you don't lower your voice, you're gonna wake him (Norman also pointed towards Edgar's room) up and he'll freak out. Between the storm and you yelling, he'll never go back to sleep…so CALM THE FUCK DOWN and talk to me!" Norman screamed in a whisper. _You want a cigarette, don't you? Really fucking badly, I can tell. You're upset, trying not to cry and any other day, you'd go have a few smokes on the back porch to calm down. But you won't. Because you're trying to quit…for me. So take it out on me, Sig. Give me your best shot. God knows, I'll take it better than you think._

_Oh my God, I want a cigarette so bad right now_. "Don't fucking tell me what to do! I'm the captain of this ship, God damn it," Sig said, pointing again at the house but lower his voice. _No matter how angry or upset, I'll never frighten my littlest brother. On the other hand, this little brother currently lounging on my bed like he owns it, is another story. _

"Fine, Cap-a-tain, but if you think I'm calling you 'sir,' you're out of your fucking mind!" Norman yelled/whispered back. "Just keep your voice down. What are you so mad about, anyway?" _Get it out, Sig. _Lightening flashed outside and they both hesitated, waiting for the thunder. The storm was a long way off so the sound was muffled and subdued. No noise came from the room down the hall.

Sig continued pacing the beige carpet, now biting at his fingernails and twisting his class ring, "Why the hell did you come back so soon?"

_Ok, you're worried about me and what I heard. Now you're worried I'm upset and mad at you. Ok, let's deal with this. We'll take this all one at a time, Sig. Come on, let's dance, partner_. Norman steeled his heart for the inevitable, "I didn't think it was that soon, Sig. Jesus, how long does it take to put the kid over your knee and swat him a few times?"

Sig's rage was growing and he turned accusing eyes towards this tough, middle brother, "He was a fucking MESS, Norman. A total wreck! The kid was torturing himself over what YOU did to him. It took me a long time just to get him calmed down enough to talk."

_Ok, that hurt…a lot. But I can take it. I'll cry later because that's all we seemed to do around here – Jesus, Edgar was right_. "And I'm sorry for it. You know I am," Norman pleaded softly, "I forgot how sensitive he is…(_Well, all three of us are, but you and I are better at hiding it)_…don't you fucking tell him I said that."

Sig pointed his finger at his brother, "How the hell could you forget, Norm? You're the one always telling me not to yell at him. Christ, the kid would rather take a lickin' then have someone yell at him any day of the week. He can't stand having somebody mad at him." _Like me, right now, thinking you're mad at me for spanking him. _

"God, Sig, I'm fucking sorry. What more do I have to say?" Norman asked desperately.

"Oh for fuck's sake, everyone's sorry. Everybody in the house is sorry." Sig started pointing his finger in multiple directions, towards Edgar's room, Norman and himself, "You're sorry you hurt him. He's sorry he hurt you. He's sorry he hurt me. I'm sorry I hurt him. I'm sorry you heard me hurting him…"

"It's a house full of sorrow," Norman mumbled under his breath.

Sig stopped pointing, his hand now clenched in a fist. In a cold voice, he said, "Don't try to be funny."

_I don't have to try _was on Norman's lips. Wisely, he went with, "I wasn't" instead.

"…I'm sorry I hurt you," Sig finished his original tirade.

"You didn't hurt me," was the quiet reply.

"Bullshit! What happened to the honesty, Norman?" Sig said, voice dripping in sarcasm. He picked up the carton of cigarettes, tossing the box onto his brother's lap as visible proof of the lie.

Norman was starting to get fed up with dancing around the big issues. Picking up the carton, Norman held it in his hand and gave his older brother a hard stare. With nothing more than a powerful squeeze, he crushed the entire box with both hands. For good measure, he added a few twists, making sure every cigarette in every box was broken. Then he flattened the box between his hands like a pancake.

Sig couldn't stop the whimper from escaping his lips. _Shit, they're gone. That's all I got. Nothing hidden away. Sure, I could drive to the store. It's open all night. But…it's raining…and I don't feel like leaving the house. Why didn't I just have one more, before going to sleep? _

"Happy now?" Norman asked, tossing the flat and broken carton into the trash can across the room. This time, he made his mark.

"No," Sig muttered like a child, "I'm not." He glanced once into the trash can and then looked away.

"Guess I can't apologize. Too much of that already. Said so yourself," Norman added with his own brand of sarcasm. _That's good, cause I ain't sorry, dude_.

"You need to drop the attitude before I drop YOU," Sig hissed through clenched teeth.

Stupidly and without thinking, like seventeen-year-olds are known to do, Norman said, "Ahhh…a warning. Thought you would have learned your lesson about those."

In a heartbeat, Sig was in Norman's face, grabbing him up by his clean, dry shirt and yanking on his ear, Norman's weak spot since they were kids. Tough thing, fighting your older brother – they always know your weak spots and won't hesitate to go after them first.

Sig hissed in his squirming brother's ear, "How DARE you fucking say THAT to me?"

Norman broke down and pleaded, "Please, please, Sig…I'm sorry I said it. I didn't mean it. It just slipped out." He couldn't take the pain anymore. Not just the pain having his ear yanked on but the pain he put his brothers through. He had made things harder on both of them with his temper tantrum in the kitchen. Edgar was so upset that he couldn't talk. Sig had to calm him down before punishing him. Sig blamed him for making it worse and it did hurt.

Sig released the ear and some of his anger was defused by his brother's pleas. Only some of it. "Jesus, another apology. Great! Would you like me to punish you so you can feel better about that now? Guess you want me to make my belt off, too," Sig muttered with frustration.

Norman furiously rubbed at his ear. Registering what his brother just said, he turned his eyes to Sig and said, "WHAT?"

"Shhh" Sig reminded him to be quiet, pointing down the hallway. Sig started pacing again, not able to look at the shock on Norman's face. "Yeah," he said breathlessly, "He told me I should use my belt. He felt so fucking guilty about everything that he thought he deserved the belt. How the hell could he ask me that, Norman?"

"Cause that's all he's ever known! Shit, Sig, that's all WE have ever known. Except that one time…with mom," Norman explained the best he could.

"He felt soo guilty, about basically nothing, just stupid kid stuff. Why so much guilt, Norman? I don't understand," Sig asked, hoping for some kind of answer.

Norman came up with the only answer he could, "I...don't know, Sig. Maybe because he looks up to you so much. He never wants to let you down and he feels like he did."

"And he thinks if he lets me down, I should take off my belt and..." Sig couldn't even finish the thought.

Norman hesitated, but felt like they were about to get to the heart of all of this. So he asked, "Would you…ever…use your belt?"

Sig froze in mid-pace. He looked at his brother with the saddest eyes Norman had ever seen. "No…never," Sig choked out, "How could you think?" Sig stopped and brought his hands up to his face. He whimpered, "Because you think I'm a monster."

With that, Sig crumbled to the floor, head buried in his knees. The sobs came quickly, his shoulders shaking and Sig tried to cover the sounds with his hands. Thankfully, this time, Sig did not have to cry alone. Within seconds, Norman was sitting on the floor next to him, facing him and pulled Sig's head into his chest. Norman put his arms around his older brother's shoulders and held him while he cried. He said firmly, "I do NOT think you are a monster. Neither does Edgar, so please stop thinking it of yourself, ok?" Sig leaned against Norman and cried, trying to muffle the sounds as best he could. He just needed to let the tears out because he couldn't keep them in anymore.

"You...heard?" Sig asked between sobs.

"Yes," was the hesitant reply.

"How much?"

Norman was really hesitating now.

Sig nudged him.

Finally, Norman replied in a whisper, "Nine licks…the paddle, I guess?"

Sig nodded against the broad chest. "You heard him crying?" he asked, sobbing hard himself.

"Yes," Norman whispered, "It was awful, hearing him cry like that, but at least he felt like he could instead of holding it all in."

Sig was bawling and Norman tried to hide as much of the sound in his chest as possible.

Sig whimpered like a five-year-old, "I don't hear it, Norman. All I hear is mommy telling me what she must have said to me a thousand times: 'Be careful, Sigurd. He's just a baby. He's smaller than you. You're much bigger than him. Don't hurt him, be gentle.'" Sig was sobbing so hard Norman could barely make it out what he was saying. It helped that mom had said the exact same things to him a thousand times, too.

"Sig, this is different and you know it," was all Norman could say. He stroked Sig's blond head and tried to offer comfort but it was difficult. The two of them were not exactly affectionate growing up and not use to this kind of thing. Norman couldn't remember Sig ever crying like this, except for one very painful time - Sara.

Like going to confession at church, Sig continued on, whispered almost inaudibly, "I spanked him, too…with my hand…for disobeying me. I spanked him hard, Norm. Was it…too much? Tell me the truth."

Norman shook his head 'no' against his brother's temple. "You left him leave his jeans on, Sig. It helps, you know," Norman said, trying to somehow make the situation better.

"Still hurts, Norman," Sig mumbled pitifully, broken sobs coming out in hitches.

"That's the point, bro. Otherwise, it's meaningless and he'll only see you as a joke. He screwed up, he felt terrible about it (_which I made worse_) but now he knows he can trust what you say. That's a pretty important thing, Sig." Norman kept trying to alleviate the guilt and actually came up with the truth, "You wanna know what he said to me the night of the bike crash?"

Sig nodded his head and kept crying.

"He told me 'I screwed up and someone loved me enough to let me know it.' That's how he sees it. And that's how I see it," Norman explained passionately. It wasn't difficult for him to be serious now. "So stop acting like you abused or humiliated him because no one in this house thinks that. You punished him but you were kind where you could be and tough when you had to be. You treated him with respect and you kept him safe. What more could you ask for? _I know, cause that's what I always wanted. _Sig, this is the tone dad set for us all our lives and, in the end, HE'S the real captain of this ship. You're just relief captain."

Sig moaned, "And I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I'm just making it up as I go." The tears kept coming but Norman's little speech helped a lot and Sig started to calm down.

"Don't let Edgar know that. Then he'll really run wild," Norman said with a smile up to his mother's picture. _Edgar gets this from your side, mom._

Sig sighed deeply. Norman was right. "He's a great kid, Norman."

"I know, believe me, I know," Norman confirmed, "But he needs an anchor in his life or he'll just drift away." _You got anchor watch for the summer, elder brother._

Sig pulled away from Norman's embrace and wiped away the tears. It was a little embarrassing, being the oldest and crying like this but he brushed it off. Sig said, finally controlling some of the tears. "Something is up with him, Norman, I can feel it. Even after the punishment and worrying about you. Something is bothering him but he can't or won't say what it is."

"Maybe mom?" Norman offered.

"Maybe," Sig whispered, then remembered, "I need you to spend the weekend with him. I'm gonna be in solitary, so to speak, till the withdraw ends. Can you do that, or do I need to ground you for the weekend as punishment for being an ass tonight?"

Norman realized how much pain Sig was about to face going without cigarettes and his heart clenched. He tried to ignore the guilt that caused because the end result would be worth it. "You don't have to punish me to get me to spend time with Edgar. Maybe that would have been a good punishment when we were younger and he was a total pain in the ass but…now…I like being with him. I really do," Norman said with a big smile.

Sig laughed, "Me, too." Then he added, "Hey, remember when we shoved him into the Christmas tree box and taped it shut with duct tape. We told him we were going to ship him to the North Pole."

Norman started laughing at one of their fondest memories, "Oh hell yeah, I even addressed the box and put stamps on it. I think we left him in there for an hour, just crying and sobbing for mommy the whole time."

Sig wagged a finger, "No, it was more like ten minutes. You and I spent what seemed like an hour in different corners of the living room whilst youngest brother, fresh out of the box, got to make cookies with mom and eat the batter all by himself."

"Yeah, kid always seems to come out on top. Lucky, I guess," Norman added with a smile

"We were pretty rotten to him, though…well, mostly me," Sig added with his own smile. Then he asked, "Norman?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" Sig asked.

"You just did." Norman responded.

"Smart ass," Sig rolled his eyes, "No, seriously."

Norman shrugged, "Sure, anything, big bro."

"When you were…listening…outside Edgar's room…?" Sig asked and stopped.

"Yeah?" Norman prompted him.

"Would you have stopped me? If you thought it was too much, I mean? If I went too far, which I never would but…just sayin.' Would you have come in and tried to stop me, honestly?" Sig asked.

Norman sighed and stared down his brother for a tense minute. The two of them stared at each other hard, neither one looking away. The lightening flashed outside again, only adding to the tension. Norman decided honesty was the new order of the house and he was tired of apologizing for things.

Finally, Norman lowered his eyes first, clearly deferring to his older brother. So Sig was completely shocked and pleasantly surprised by the answer.

"Yes, sir, I would have stopped you," was the quiet and respectful answer directed at the floor.

Sig hid a sigh of regret for not doing the same last summer and said, "Then you, my brother, are a better man than me and I am lucky to have you. We both are," Sig said with finality. He got up and pulled his brother up with him.

Sig was a little taken aback by the quick, tight hug that followed. "Am I…forgiven?" Norman asked quietly.

"Yes, Norm. Everyone in this house is forgiven. God bless this house. End of discussion." Sig squeezed him back. Then he pulled away quickly, "Wait...one more thing…I'm sorry…about your ear." Sig actually reached up to try and rub it but Norman pushed his hand away. He shot Sig a look that read, "Are you kidding me?" But then he just smiled.

"Ok, go to bed, then. See if I care," Sig said with a wave of his hand.

"I am," Norman responded, walking over and taking the trash can with him. "I know you can roll your own so I'll take this with me, just in case."

Norman quickly dodged the foot about to kick his ass as he was bending over and ran out of the room, trash can in hand. He stopped in the doorway and whispered back, "Sig…"

"Yeah?" Sig said, as he looked over his lists of things to do, none of which made any sense. He was about to flip off the desk lamp when he heard it.

"Thank you, for quitting. It means a lot," Norman said, then added something he could not remember saying to his brother in a long time, "I love you, Sig, very much."

Before Sig could turned around, Norman was gone.

* * *

Depositing the carton in a secret place and getting yet another dry shirt, Norman went back to Edgar's room and climbed into the other side of the bed. Gathering a sleepy little brother in his arms, Norman finally laid down for the night.

Edgar woke slightly and mumbled, "You ok, Norman?"

"Yes, kid. Are you ok?"

Edgar nodded and snuggled his face into Norman's chest.

"Reminded me in the morning to apologize to you," Norman said, holding his brother close to his heart. He figured out that Edgar liked the sound.

"For what, Norm? There's nothing left to apologize for," Edgar said, feeling completely at peace listening to the steady rhythm of the heartbeat.

"True, we're all apologized out tonight. Tomorrow, I want to apologize for something else," Norman said quietly, listening to the rain pound against the window.

"What?"

"The Christmas tree box."


	24. Cravings

**DISCLAIMERS: Mention of disciplinary spanking, mild sex scene, bad language, adult content. PLEASE DO NOT READ if that offends you! That's why there is a disclaimer. **

**Just a reminder: This is TOTAL fiction and does not reflect the author's personal beliefs in anyway. I own nothing and make no money.**

* * *

Sig tossed and turned in his bed for over an hour before finally giving up. He hadn't slept a wink yet, despite being bleary-eyed and bone-tired from the night's emotional toll. Staring up at the ceiling and listening to the storm rage outside, he thought about his father.

For the first time this summer, Sig let himself regret not being with his father on this trip. He'd have given anything to be with his dad right then and there, facing the storms together and learning all his dad had to teach him. Dad would have been hard on him, Sig knew. Probably yelling and swearing at him for every wrong move he made. And Sig would have hid the pain inside and used it as motivation to learn faster. Regardless of dad's harsh ways, Sig would have been happy, learning to become a great fishing boat captain and adding to the family legacy. It had been his life-long dream since the first time Sig walked the deck of a boat.

But he wasn't on a boat, learning to become a captain and being rocked to sleep by the sea's waves. He was at home, playing the role of mom, dad and big brother all at the same time. It was an overwhelming amount of responsibility. The weight on his shoulders was a heavy burden.

_A cigarette would ease the burden. Jesus, why'd I have to quit now. There's so much stress in my life. I'm worried about the kid, wondering what the heck is bothering him so much. I'm worried that I didn't get to comfort the kid after I punished him and I actually feel a little cheated about that. I'm worried about the tough guy and how he's handling all of this. I'm worried my father's gonna kill me when he comes home and finds us all blubbering messes that cry on each other's shoulders more days than not. Dad didn't intend on raising a bunch of wusses. But, here we are, crying and telling each other we love each other all the time. Ok, let's face it. I don't care what dad thinks about that. I like telling my brothers I love then and I love hearing it back. When dad gets home, I'm gonna tell him I love him. Take that, Old Man. See how you like it. _

Sig glanced up at the picture over his bed. The great F/V Northwestern stared down at him. _I'm gonna own you someday. I'll be the captain and you will be the greatest, most famous crab boat ever built. Just wait for me. I'll get there. First, I'm gone be with my family for this summer, being the rock they need and bonding with them before I'm gone all the time. It's my last chance, really. I just really wish mom didn't have to die for me to find out how much I love both my brothers. I always knew but I never knew how much. I never realized how much both of them need me. And I never realized how much I WANT A FUCKING CIGARETTE!_

Sig got up from his bed and puttered around his room for a while. When there was nothing left to read or do in there, he wandered out of his room and down the hallway. He actually looked around for his own bedroom trash can, thinking he could scrape up enough tobacco to roll his own cigarette_. Norman is a wise guy at times, but damn he is sharp. _

Sig checked all of Norman's famous hiding spots, finally finding the trash can in his bedroom closet. _Empty. He hid the carton somewhere else. The bastard._

Sig wandered down the hallway to Edgar's bedroom. The door was left open and he peeked inside. The sight that greeted him was heartwarming. Norman took up most of the bed with his grand size and was sleeping dead in the center, snoring to beat the band. Edgar, smaller in size, looked like an elf and was curled up on his belly with his head resting on the snoring chest. Norman had one arm around his little brother's back and shoulders and was holding him in his sleep.

_Norman was right, I should have been me. I wanted it to be me. But Edgar didn't ask for me. He wanted Norm. Why does that make me a little jealous? For the third time, he got a whole lot of Norman taking up most of his bed and being the protective older brother. I want that role, damn it. I use to complain about it but now I want it. No, he wants the brother that doesn't ground him, or take away things or warn him or…Oh stop thinking about it. It's over. Somebody's gotta be the bad guy and I should be strong enough to handle it, right? What I'd really like to handle right now is a cigarette between my index and middle finger. _

Sig sighed and closed his eyes, mentally taking a picture of the sweet scene. Then he proceeded downstairs. For the next hour, Sig wandered around the quiet house, trying not to make any noise. He washed the tea cup and mixing bowl in the sink, drying both and putting them back in the cabinet. He sat down at the kitchen table and tried to re-read the newspaper. Old news is pretty boring and didn't keep his interest long. Turning on the lamp in the living room, Sig curled up on the sofa and tried to watch TV. There was nothing on this late at night, even the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson was over. He turned off the TV and stared into the dark fireplace.

As the grandfather clock chimed two bells, Sig made the decision to go to the local convenience store down the corner. He would never be able to quit smoking, not this summer especially. It just wasn't going to happen, so why bother. He'd be gone and back in a few minutes. He could smoke outside on the porch and no one would be the wiser. _I could totally get away with this. Norman would never find out. I'll hide the cigarettes in my car. God knows, he'll never go in there_.

As Sig made a motion to get up off the sofa, he heard a soft voice from the bottom of the steps.

"Sig?" Edgar asked quietly.

Sig jumped at the voice and then looked over the back of the sofa. He saw his youngest brother standing there in his sleep pants and an old t-shirt. Edgar's shaggy hair was a ruffled, tangled mess and he was rubbing his eyes from the light of the lamp.

_Divine intervention._

"Hey, kid," Sig said softly, "What are you doing up?"

Edgar shuffled his feet as he moved around to the front of the sofa. "Norm's snoring," he said, still half asleep. Without invitation, Edgar slid onto what was left of the sofa, despite his very tall brother taking up the length of it.

Sig let the kid settle in, Edgar's back against his chest and his bare feet touching his shins. Sig rearranged the pillow under his head so that Edgar could rest his head on the edge of it. He noticed that Edgar was shivering slightly.

"You cold?" Sig asked quietly.

"Air conditioning," was the explanation.

"Want me to turn it off?" Sig asked, making a move to get up.

The only response he got was Edgar reaching up and pulling Sig's arm down over his own chest. Edgar trapped the arm under his own and wrapped both hands around Sig's forearm, holding it tightly. Snuggling into the pillow, Edgar sighed deeply and fell asleep in seconds.

_Guess I'm not going to the store after all. _

Sig closed his eyes and listened to his brother's even breathing. After a while, he found himself matching his own breathing with Edgar's. Pulling his brother even closer to his chest, Sig went about tightening his arm around Edgar to prevent him from rolling off the sofa in his sleep. It was the last thing Sig remembered doing that night.

* * *

Early the next morning, both Sig and Edgar were still sound asleep in the living room when Norman came bounding down the stairs. He was dressed and ready for a new day, thinking Edgar was already downstairs and waiting for breakfast.

As Norman made it half-way down the steps, the sight of his older and younger brother asleep and curled up on the sofa together was too much of a temptation for him. On his tip-toes, Norman went back up the steps and into Edgar's room. Quietly retrieving the item he returned for, Norman went back down the stairs and crept into the living room.

Sitting down on the coffee table, directly in front of the sofa, Norman began what he believed to be a beautiful country love song about stormy days and lost relationships, all while hopelessly strumming Edgar's guitar.

About two lines into the god-awful singing and twangy guitar-playing, both brothers being serenaded stirred from their slumber.

Edgar opened his eyes first and had to smile at the sight that greeted him. Norman had his eyes closed, face passionate in his singing and wasn't even holding the guitar correctly. Edgar couldn't suppress a giggle, "Norman, do you have any idea how to play that?"

"I do not, little brother," Norman opened his eyes and sang, "Because you were blessed with all the musical talent in this family." Norman continued the terrible plucking of the strings as he sang his answer.

Sig did not open his eyes, only buried his face into Edgar's neck and grumbled loudly, "I swear to God, Norm, if you don't stop that racket, I'm gonna…"

"RACKET?" Norman squeaked, faking hurt feeling. Then started strumming again and said, "This is award-winning stuff. I could make millions as the next, great county music writer." Proudly, he continued on with his future Grammy-winning tune.

Keeping his eyes closed, Sig tightened his hold around Edgar and roared like a lion into the shaggy hair. A few, powerful cuss words escaped his lips as well as something about having a blazing headache. Edgar turned pleading eyes to their middle brother.

Norman smiled a devilish, evil smile at his younger brother as he continued to play and sing.

Edgar just shook his head slightly, a little afraid to move should the lion decide to pounce. He just mouthed silently to Norman, "He's gonna kill you."

Seeing that little brother was the one closest to getting strangled if things took a turn for the worse, Norman let out a loud, "Humph," and set down the guitar before it got smashed over someone's head. _Most likely my head. And then Edgar would really cry. _

"Thank you!" Sig muttered when the music (_if you could call it that_) stopped. But Sig did not release his hold on Edgar. He fully intended on going back to sleep and Edgar was like a security blanket he wasn't about to give up. _I'm not getting up early today. I'm sleeping in for once. Right here. With this kid, in my arms. All day._

Edgar lay there like a helpless fish caught in a net. He was starving, not having eaten anything since lunch the previous day. His brothers didn't know that, though, since he lied like a rug and told them he had an imaginary dinner with his crush and her family.

Norman stared at his little brother, trapped in the claws of a large, blond crab that was only going to get crabbier as the day went on. Coming up with a quick plan, Norman announced, "Let's go out for breakfast. We haven't been to the diner in forever and I could use some homemade waffles and bacon."

Edgar's stomach growled and his eyes grew wide at the mention of 'bacon.' He looked over at Norman, still sitting on the coffee table, and enthusiastically nodded his liking of this plan for breakfast.

Sig would have liked to stay on the sofa for the remainder of the day but listening to his littlest brother's stomach bubble and growl, he knew he'd have to let him go eventually. Finally opening his eyes, he grumbled, "Let me go get my wallet," as he released his brother out of his clutches. _Guess I'm not gonna sleep in after all._

"You may also want to get dressed, bro," Norman said to Sig. He added as Edgar stood up from the sofa and stretched his arms over his head, "And you, little brother, need to get a shower and put on some deodorant. Jesus, Edgar, haven't you started using the stuff yet?"

Edgar paused at the question. He shrugged his shoulders and said sheepishly, "Don't got any."

Norman looked over at Sig, who was still lounging on the sofa and trying to get the feeling back in his left arm. Sig returned the gaze. The look shared between them spoke volumes but left a little brother in the dark. This small attention to personal hygiene always fell in mom's department. Somehow, she knew when to start purchasing these "big boy" items for them, like deodorant, razors, shaving cream and the like. These things would just magically appear in their rooms when they were out of the house.

Since she died, Sig and Norman purchased items for their own personal needs. No one thought about Edgar and what he might need. Both older brothers wanted to kick themselves and each other at the same time.

Sig found his voice first. Still looking at Norman, he asked Edgar, "Why didn't you just borrow mine, kid? It's under the sink in the bathroom."

Edgar shrugged again, staring off into the kitchen, "I know." _I've watch you put it on and then put the can away_. He added quietly, "Wasn't sure I was allowed to use it."

Sig shook his head sadly and stared at Norman. _Kid wouldn't take shit without asking first, damn it_.

"Well, you can use it today," Sig said, looking up from the sofa at Edgar, "We'll get you some at the store tomorrow. You can pick out what you like."

Edgar muttered an "Ok" before heading up the steps to the shower. Inside, he was a little more than excited but he hid it well. Feeling like 'one of the guys,' Edgar grabbed clean clothes from his room and went into the bathroom.

Once the bathroom door closed and the shower started running, Norman picked up the guitar and pretended he was going to hit his older brother with it. Sig didn't even flinched, just stretched himself out on the sofa like a cat. Stopping the guitar inches over Sig head, Norman put it back down and said, "Moron, didn't you even think about getting him something like that?"

"Don't blame me, Norman. You're the dummy that had to go and embarrass him. Why do I have to be the one that thinks of all this stuff? What about you for a change?" Sig grumbled and got up from the sofa.

Norman tossed his hands up, smiling, "Not the eldest and most reverent bror."

Sig shot him a hard look. "Today is NOT the day to play with me, Norman," Sig said in a warning tone.

"Naw, it sure ain't," Norman responded with a smile, "So…," as he picked up the guitar again, "…I'll play FOR you." With that, Norman started strumming the guitar and picking up right where he left off in his award-winning song.

In a less than gentle manner, Sig snatched the guitar from Norman lap and took it upstairs with him. Norman called after him as Sig headed up the stairs, "Fine, but remember, you knew me before I was famous."

Sig ignored him and kept going. _God, I feel like shit. My head hurts and my hands are shaky. _He returned the guitar to its stand in Edgar's room and went down the hallways to his own room. After making the bed, Sig dressed quickly in jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. He grabbed his wallet off his desk and slipped it into his back pocket. Opening his closet door, he took his belt off the hook and went to put it on, not even remembering how it got there. He was so upset the previous night, he wasn't even aware of what he did from the time he left Edgar's room to the time Norman came in to talk to him. The everyday, mundane action froze him solid.

Standing in front of the closet, he held his leather belt in his hand and almost cried at the memory from the previous night. _Would you ever…use your belt?_" a frightened, timid voice asked him. _I gave him the most truthful answer I could, a vow, even, but not any kind of explanation. I blew that off because it's too hard to talk about it. Maybe someday, I'll get a chance to explain. _

Pushing away sad thoughts, Sig put the belt through the loops of his jeans and pulled his t-shirt over it. Almost ready to face his first, cigarette-less day in five years, Sig opened his bedroom door and headed to the bathroom. The shower had stopped but the door was still closed.

Sig knocked respectfully, "Hey, I need to brush my teeth."

Hearing the lock click, the door seemed to magically open on its own. Sig proceeded in and found a shirtless little brother with clean, wet hair, wearing only his boxers and jeans. The smell of deodorant was overwhelming in the hot, little room and Sig almost choked from the still lingering cloud of mist.

Edgar reached for the towel from the rack and started vigorously towel-drying his shaggy hair. From under the towel, he announced proudly to his oldest brother, "I used your deodorant."

_Yes, you did…about half the can from what I can tell_. Sig smiled in the mirror. Not wanting to hurt his littlest brother's feelings, Sig only said, "That will make Norman happy, kid. You know how sensitive he is about any bad smells in his truck?"

Edgar looked up, the towel still over his head, and looked at his brother in the mirror. Sig thought he looked like a nun. Edgar asked, not able to hide his disappointment, "We're taking the truck today?"

Sig looked down and started putting the toothpaste on his brush, "Yeah, my car isn't known for handling on wet roads, kid. Too low to the ground. She's built for speed and looking pretty." Then Sig started brushing his teeth.

As Sig looked up, toothbrush in his mouth, he caught his little brother's disappointed look in the mirror before Edgar went back to drying his hair. _FUCK, he's still uncomfortable. He'd rather take the Trans Am so he can lie down in the back seat. How stupid, thoughtless, careless I am? Didn't expect this. _Sig spit out his toothpaste and brush. Taking Edgar by storm, Sig turned around and grabbed his little brother and the towel into a tight bear hug.

Although surprised by the action, Edgar nestled into his big brother's chest, wetting his t-shirt slightly with his damp hair. _I don't really care why I get these hugs but I love getting them so…whatever_. Wrapping his arms around his big brother's back, Edgar tried to find an opening under the towel so he could breathe.

Sig sighed and put his chin over the wet towel. He whispered, "Oh, kid, are you…hurtin' still?"

The towel underneath him shook slowly from side to side. Then a soft voice whispered a long-kept little secret, "The truck is ok but…I love the Trans Am."

Sig started laughing, mostly with relief but also a glimmer of pride. _Suddenly, I don't feel as shitty. My head still hurts but I can ignore it._

Edgar shook the towel off his head and looked up to his oldest brother, green eyes pleading, "You won't tell Norman, will you?" Anticipating being blackmailed at some point with this information, Edgar was prepared to beg his oldest brother to keep his little secret.

_Funny_, Sig thought, _how easily we slip back into our natural roles as brothers. Last night, I spanked and paddled you for disobeying me. Today, you expect me to tease you like the little brother you are. That is a God-damn good feeling cause I like today a hell of a lot better than yesterday_. "No, Edgar," Sig said reassuringly, "I will not tell Norm. We'll keep this between you and me. No sense in telling him and getting the tough guy all worked up for nothing. Everybody in this house knows I've got THE car, even him. He just won't admit it."

Edgar relaxed into his brother's warm embrace. "Thanks, Sig. I don't want to hurt his feelings. He worked pretty hard to get that truck up and running," Edgar said against his brother's chest. Giving one last squeeze, Edgar tried to pull away but Sig didn't let him go.

"There are some things we still gotta talk about," Sig said quietly.

Edgar tensed and Sig was immediately sorry his statement came out like it did. _Have to be mindful now of what I say. Seems like the little brother/big brother relationship was permanently damaged after all. I use to be able to say whatever I wanted to him without having to worry about how it would be construed. _

_Please, Sig, I don't want to lie to you anymore. At least for next few days, I'm safe. I'm free, till next weekend. Please just let me enjoy being with you and Norman for a while. _

Sig rubbed Edgar's towel-covered head and said gently, "No, nothing bad. Just some things we have to clear up, your curfew being one of them."

Again, Edgar relaxed in the safety of his brother's arms.

Deciding against talking about things now, Sig just sighed and held his brother for a moment. "Come on," Sig said finally with an extra tight squeeze, "We'll talk later. Norman's probably sitting in the truck waiting for us and getting madder by the minute. You know how he loves bacon."

_Me, too and I'm about to pass out from hunger. _"Then ya gotta let go of me so I can get dressed" Edgar muttered, trying to catch his breath.

Just because he was the oldest brother and because he could, Sig did not let go. Instead, he continued to squeeze his little brother hard against his chest.

Edgar, being all too familiar with this tactic, started to squirm and wiggle free before the hold got any tighter. Sadly, his oldest brother was still much bigger and stronger and Edgar's movements did nothing to help his situation.

Sig chuckled a slightly menacing laugh, "No, you're not going anywhere. So, you think I'd blackmail you about the truck, huh? Just like all the times you blackmailed me into doing stuff for you, huh?"

"I learned it from you," Edgar said desperately, knowing full well what was coming. His struggles increased ten-fold but Sig had him caught like a crab in a pot.

"FROM ME…why, you little…" Sig picked his brother up off his feet and carried him from the bathroom. Edgar struggled, kicked, punched and gave it all he had but it was hopeless. Sig just laughed at his pathetic attempts of escape.

Dropping his brother face-first on the carpeted floor of his room, Sig held him down with one knee planted firmly on his back. Grabbing both of Edgar's hands and holding them above his head with Sig's left hand, Edgar's side was now completely exposed.

The youngest brother was now officially reduced to begging, 'PLEASE, PLEEEASSSE, SIG, PLEASE DON'T!."

Sig ignored the begging and pleading and started tickling Edgar's ribs till the kid had tears running down his face. Edgar was kicking the floor and trying to kick his brother off of him at the same time. He was completely out of breath, gasping for air and begging his brother for mercy. All the while, the kid was laughing hysterically.

Finally, Sig stopped but kept his brother pinned to the floor. "Ok, I'll stop. But only one condition."

"An…Anny…Any…anything," Edgar sputtered as air returned to his lungs.

Sig laughed and demanded, "Tell me I'm the better bigger brother."

Edgar wanted to get up so he could inflict some revenge of his own, not that it would have fazed his brother either way. He would have said almost anything. Yet, he was devoted and loyal to both of his brothers. And saying this particular phrase would have been disloyal to at least one of them. So he tensed and held his ground, remaining silent.

"Oh, you've got be the most stubborn kid on the planet. Alright, guess you didn't get enough yet," Sig said, returning to the torturous tickling.

Edgar was about to start screaming when Norman yelled up from the bottom of the steps, "What the hell is going on up there? The truck is running and I'm wasting gas. Money doesn't grow on trees, you know!"

As Norman pulled out one of their father's favorite lines, Sig released the hold on his brother and broke out in his own laughter. Edgar took this as his opportunity for escape and scurried away, kicking his brother lightly in the arm as he ran back into the bathroom and locked the door.

Sig got up, laughing and holding his side. _Damn, I smoked too much in the last five years. _He rubbed his arm, even though it didn't really hurt. It was a good thing Edgar wasn't wearing any shoes.

Five minutes later, two brothers, (both dressed and wearing shoes, hair combed, and teeth brushed) came tumbling down the stairs. They were fighting to see who could get to the truck first and pushing each other out of the way. Mom would have said they sounded like a bunch of elephants.

Edgar didn't stand a chance. Sig would never let him win. In the lead, Sig didn't realize Norman was standing in the doorway of the kitchen until he crashed into a large, broad chest.

Norman seized Sig in a massive bear hug, pinning his arms to his side and held him against the wall, effectively immobilizing him. Norman cocked his head towards the back door, a signal for Edgar go first.

Caught unaware, Sig struggled against the hold but could only watch helplessly as Edgar literally skipped, like a little girl with a large lollipop, past his trapped brother, a giant grin from ear to ear on his face. Edgar turned around and even stuck his tongue out at Sig as he left the house. Edgar proceeded to be the first out on the porch and into a humming truck before getting drenched by the rain.

Edgar watched his brothers come out a minute later, locking the back door and then standing on the porch, arguing about who was going to drive. Edgar had to laugh inside the truck. His two brothers would never change. They were like an old married couple some times. Arguing fiercely one minute and planning some adventure the next. _They truly are best friends. And I love them both._

* * *

In the end, Sig drove to the diner. Edgar huddled up next to his older brother, a little fearful that his oldest brother was plotting some intense revenge for losing the race to the truck. Norman kept a protective arm around Edgar, although it was just for show.

While listening to country music, the three of them talked about food for the entire ride. By the time they got to their destination, they were salivating in anticipation.

The diner was packed with people. It was Saturday, so that was to be expected. As luck would have it, Matt's mother was working her waitressing job and saw the boys waiting in line. She managed to quietly usher them to an open booth in the back of the diner. All three Hansens thanked her profusely and she smiled, saying something about hungry, teenage boys and their cravings for food.

Matt's mother also waited their table, taking a hearty order of a double stack of waffles with apples, a triple order of bacon, extra home fries with ketchup, white toast with jam and a large glass of orange juice. This order came proudly from the youngest and smallest Hansen.

Norman and Sig looked over top their menus at each other. _Kid must be having a growth spurt or something_. Since this was a normal size order for them, both older brothers decided on the same thing. Making one exception, Sig opted for coffee and Norman opted for hot tea in place of the orange juice.

While waiting for their breakfast, Sig announced that he was going to have to work next weekend. In exchange, he had off this Wednesday and Thursday. Norman mentioned something about trying to get off of work those days as well, and that perhaps the three of them could go fishing up at the lake.

Edgar started salivating for another reason. He absolutely loved the lake and going fishing. The family had a small cabin up there and some of his favorite memories were at the lake. Not wanting to get his hopes up, Edgar casually mentioned that he would also like to go to the lake. That is, if Norman could get off from work.

When breakfast arrived, all conversation at the table stopped. For a solid ten minutes, only the sounds of munching, crunching, chewing and lip-smacking could be heard. Sig and Norman were a little surprised that Edgar ate his entire order. Sig had assumed the kid had eyes bigger than his stomach. That did not turn out to be the case. _Kid, I hope you ain't growing too much. I can't afford to buy you new clothes right now. Good thing you don't mind wearing my old things._

After a heated debate between Sig and Norman over who was paying the bill, Norman declared, "My idea, I'm paying." With that, he pulled out his wallet and pulled out a twenty.

Sig relented and left a generous tip. He leaned over and whispering in Edgar's ear something about always treating people who serve you with respect and appreciation.

Edgar wished he could have offered his own money to either pay the bill or leave a tip, but he didn't even have an allowance anymore. Watching his brothers argue over money was disheartening for him. It only added to the guilt about the money he still felt he stole from his brother. Knowing he'd somehow find a way to pay the money back, Edgar tried to swallow back the guilty feelings.

Norman drove home, practically wrestling the keys from his oldest brother as they left the diner. The rain was getting heavier and the ride home was slow. All three brothers were silent on the drive home, a little nervous about the treacherous driving conditions. The radio was even turned off. The only sound was the mad swishing back and forth of the windshield wipers and water hitting the truck like it was coming from buckets.

Unable to see much through the pouring rain, Norman drove slowly down the road. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than normal, causing his knuckles to turn white. Sig noticed and tried to refrain from offering advice or encouragement. This advice would have been offered honestly but would only be received as an insult. So Sig stayed quiet, pulling Edgar closer to his side and wrapping his arms around his youngest brother.

Edgar noticed their middle brother's heavy grip but only thought about the class ring that was NOT on his older brother's finger. Then he looked down at the class ring that was ON his oldest brother's finger. Sig was absentmindedly twisting the ring in front of him. _Sig's nervous. Is it really that bad out?_ Edgar prayed a little that the three of them would make it home safely.

Although it took longer than usual, the truck plowed through the torrential downpour and pulled into the driveway. Norman shut off the engine and the headlights, turning to his oldest brother with a smile that read: _See, I'm a big boy. I can drive in anything._

As the three of them ran onto the porch, Norman unlocked the door and headed into the safety of the house. Edgar was right behind him. Shaking off the rain, Edgar held the door open for Sig.

But Sig wasn't ready to come inside. He stood on the edge of the porch, his hands shaking and his heart racing. As he looked out into the rain, Sig wanted nothing more than a cigarette. Between the wonderful meal and the harrowing drive home, he was craving nicotine badly.

Edgar was about to go back outside to get him when Norman stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Norman leaned down and whispered, "Leave him be for a while, Edgar."

With sad eyes, Edgar looked over at his older brother. "Will he be ok?" he asked quietly.

Norman smiled, his blue eyes bright. "Yeah," he said reassuringly, "He'll be fine. He just needs some time."

Edgar bowed his head and took off his shoes, leaving the back door open. He walked through the kitchen and up to his bedroom, shutting his bedroom door behind him.

Norman sighed, watching his little brother slink away. Leaving Sig to wallow on the porch alone, Norman noticed for the first time that someone had cleaned up the mixing bowl and tea cup from the sink.

_You didn't sleep last night, did you, big brother_, Norman thought. _That's why you were on the sofa. I was likely snoring and woke up the kid. Edgar came to find you. Glad you had someone with you. Who knows what might have happened?_

Coming up with a pathetic idea he'd seen on TV, Norman began searching the cupboards for Edgar's leftover Halloween candy from trick-or-treat night. Finding the bag buried in the back of the cabinet over the refrigerator, Norman found the something he was looking for. Willing to face the beast, Norman took the offering outside.

Sig looked lost, desperation in his eyes, as he stood there staring out into the rain. He heard Norman come back outside as the screen door slammed closed behind him. Sig was about to give up and tell Norman this wasn't going to work when a large, cherry-flavored lollipop materialized in front of him.

"Maybe this will help," Norman said, hope dripping off his voice.

Sig smiled. The gesture was so sincere and sweet, but pathetic and unlikely to work. Still, Sig took the offered lollipop anyway. "Wow, Norm, thanks. An eight-month-old piece of candy. How did I ever get so lucky to have you for a brother?" Sig asked, unwrapping the paper and sticking the sweet into his mouth.

Sig turned towards his brother, playing with the stick between his teeth and making up and down motions like it was cigarette dangling from his lips.

"You should consider yourself lucky to have me. You told me that yourself, not just 12 hours ago. (_I remember clearly because it was one of the nicest things you ever said to me. Sincerely, no joking around. Made me feel like I really mattered in this family. Cause, sometimes, I feel…left out.)_ Did you forget already?" Norman quipped, folding his arms proudly in front of himself.

Sig didn't have a chance to respond. Back in the house, the phone rang and Norman practically killed himself running back inside to get it.

_Too late. The kid got it first on the upstairs phone_. As Norman listened at the bottom of the steps, he heard his younger brother having a brief conversation with his own girlfriend, Amanda. _God, the kid has a way with women._

Picking up the receiver in the kitchen, Norman yelled upstairs for his brother to hang up the phone. Not hearing a click, Norman yelled again, this time adding something about kicking someone's ass if they did NOT get OFF the phone. Only then did he hear a click.

Amanda went on a little about how sweet Edgar is and Norman rolled his eyes, a tiny bit annoyed but not sure why. The two of them made plans for the evening to go see a movie and hang out at Amanda's house afterwards. Then, Norman forgot his promise to spend time with Edgar this weekend and wanted to kick himself. Explaining to his girl that he was on "Edgar watch" tonight, Amanda came up with a plan to bring her little sister, Sally, along with them. Then it would sort of be a double-date. Norman hid a smile. _Edgar's gonna love this_.

Sig came back inside, lollipop still in his mouth, and saw his brother in the phone. He leaned against the counter and Norman asked Amanda to hold on. He put his hand over the receiver.

"Can I take Edgar to the movies tonight?" Norm wasn't really sure what the arrangement was this weekend or if Edgar was still grounded. _Hell, I don't even know if I'm grounded. _

Sig removed the lollipop from his lips and played with it between his index and middle finger. "Yes, please. Go have fun," Sig responded without hesitation and with a smile. _This could be my chance._

Norman confirmed the plans with Amanda and, before getting off the phone, made some mushy, heartfelt comments of love to her. Sig listened to the mush and then stood in front of his brother, pretending to gag himself with the lollipop. Norman tried to keep a straight face as well as kick him from across the room. Too bad the phone cord wasn't that long.

Hanging up the phone, Norman went after his older brother, only to be told, "Don't play if someone has food in their mouth," by his brother as Sig proceeded up the stairs to his bedroom. _Why do we always sound like our parents?_

* * *

By the afternoon, despite the lollipop and all the other support from his brothers, Sig was miserable. He lay in his bed, room shuttered dark and tried to sleep a little. But his head was pounding with the worse headache he had ever experienced. Every moment or movement felt like it would cause his eyes to pop out of his head.

So it did not help that his youngest brother was in his own room, practicing his guitar. The noise, normally pleasing and soothing to him, was now like a hammer slamming into Sig's temples. Edgar could truly play. It was a gift of his. But now was not the time or the day.

Sig tried to drown out the noise by covering his head with his pillow. It helped, but not enough. Every pluck and strum caused Sig's brain to seize, contracting painfully in his skull.

After a while, he just couldn't take it anymore. Sig threw his pillow across the room, his patience at an end. Getting up, stomping down the hallway, he roughly opened the door of Edgar's bedroom.

Edgar was immediately startled at the sudden movement and stopped playing in mid-stroke of the guitar. Looking up, he saw an angry, frustrated oldest brother with red-rimmed blue eyes stood in the doorway.

"STOP THAT FUCKING PLAYING! My head is fucking killing me, Edgar!" Sig screamed at the top of his lungs, glaring at his youngest brother and wincing in pain from the loudness of his own voice. The green eyes that stared back at him were startled, frightened and rapidly filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, Sig," Edgar whispered, standing up from his desk chair and putting the guitar away. He kept his eyes lowered, unable to look his oldest brother in the face and tried to keep the tears from falling out his eyes.

Watching his little brother's spirit crumble right in front of him, Sig immediately regretted his actions. Feeling worse than he did the night before, Sig wanted to kick himself and hug his brother at the same time.

Norman heard his oldest brother's yelling from his weight room, which was all the way down in the basement. Sig was THAT loud and Norman knew in an instant this was not good. Racing up the basement stairs to the kitchen, Norman prayed again for God to give him the right words cause he was gonna need them ~ again.

Back in Edgar's room, Sig was still standing in the doorway and hesitating on how to properly apologize for his behavior. He couldn't believe what just happened. The hurt in Edgar's eyes was like a dagger to the heart and he suddenly forgot about his painful headache. _I'm so sorry, kid. I didn't mean it. Don't get upset. _

Before he had the chance to say anything, Sig felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

Norman pulled Sig gently out of the doorway and shut Edgar's bedroom door, but not before shooting Edgar a smile and a wink. The effort to get the kid to smile was fruitless. Edgar tossed himself face first onto his bed and was crying softly before the door even shut.

Dragging Sig down the hallway by his shirt, Norman hissed words he thought he wouldn't say till he was a father. "Go. To. Your. Room. AND. Stay. There!" was whispered in his best, no bullshit tone. What was more shocking than the words was that Sig willingly complied.

Looking like he just lost his best friend, maybe both of them, Sig allowed himself to himself to be lead to his room like a child. "I didn't mean it, Norman…I just…" Sig stammered.

"I got it, Sig, " Norman said evenly, pushing his brother into his room, "I'll talk to the kid. Please, just stay in here. Call down the steps if you need anything, ok?"

Sig only nodded and closed his bedroom door without a word. Crawling fully dressed under his comforter, Sig hid from the world for the rest of the afternoon. He also hid the tears that fell, unable to erase the look on his Edgar's face from his mind.

Norman watched the door close, his own temper receding from seeing the look on Sig's face. Taking in a heavy sigh, Norman walked back to Edgar's room and listened to the soft sobbing coming from the other side of the door. Smiling to himself about something Sig said a few days ago, Norman opened the door and went in to comfort his brother. He closed the door quietly behind him.

Edgar was sprawled out on his bed, his face hidden in the nook of his crossed arms. His shoulders were raking slightly and Norman could hear muffled sniffles coming from the shaggy head hiding from him.

Kneeling in front of the bed, Norman stroked his brother's hair and whispered, "Oh, kid, it's ok. He didn't mean it. Don't take it personally."

Between sniffles, Edgar muttered into his comforter, "He's mad at me, isn't he?"

"No, no. He ain't mad at you," Norman explained, "He's probably mad at himself for losing his temper." Norman continued stroking Edgar's hair, feeling terrible for the kid and wishing he had Sig's gift for calming the kid down.

Popping his head up enough to reveal one open eye over his forearm, Edgar whispered, "I hate get hollered at, Norman. Rather take a lickin' than have someone mad at me." Tear tracks down his cheek were evidence of just how much it bothered him. Edgar looked at his brother with his one eye, still filled with tears and started rubbing his cheek against his folded hands.

"None of that," Norman said firmly, stroking his hair and smiling at the one green eye looking back at him, "No rubbing at your face because there's no need for it. No one in this house is mad at you. There's only a grumpy grizzly bear down the end of the hallway and he'll get over it soon enough."

Edgar smiled at little at the 'grumpy grizzly bear' comment and Norman smiled back.

Pulling the kid up to a seated position, Norman wiped off the remaining tears gently with the back of his hands. "Come on, no more tears. Wouldn't want to be a mess for your 'big date' tonight," Norman explained causally and laughed at the kid's confused look.

"Huh?" Edgar asked.

"Tonight, you're coming with me and Amanda to the movies and then back to her house," Norman explained, hiding a smile.

'Awww, Norman," Edgar whined, "Don't drag me with you like a third wheel. I'd rather stay at home. No offense and all, but…thanks anyway."

Norman leaned over and whispered in Edgar's ear, "Her little sister is coming with us."

Now Edgar hid a smile. Sally was one of the cutest girls in his class. She was blond with short hair and amber eyes and probably the smartest kid in his grade. She was also painfully shy and hardly ever said a word to anyone. Edgar began to feel better already.

Norman laughed at the quiet pondering going on next to him. Clarifying himself, he added, 'Well, I'M going on a date. You and the little sister are just hanging out together."

Remembering something rather important, Edgar lost his smile. "Norman," Edgar said sadly, "I ain't got any money. I lost my allowance for the next two weeks. I can't go."

Norman ignored the little pain in his heart and pulled out his wallet. He said with complete honesty, "I meant to give this to you last night but there were other things going on and I forgot." Norman handed the kid a twenty dollar bill.

"What's this for?" Edgar said, holding the money in his hand.

"You worked this week, didn't ya? Very hard, I might add, and you were a big help to me at the store. You earned it, Edgar. Now put it away and stop looking at me like that," Norman demanded, not wanting to see the sad look anymore. _Too much God-damn sadness in this house. Let's have so fun._

Edgar slipped the money into his jeans pocket without argument. He already planned to use the change from the twenty to pay back his oldest brother. Tonight, though, he was getting out of the house and having fun. Just being a kid and not worrying about risking his life to protect his family. And that was just fine with him.

Putting an arm around his little brother's shoulder, Norman pulled him close and held him for a moment. Then, abruptly, he announced, 'Come on, let's go find something to round up for dinner."

"I got dinner," Edgar announced himself, "It's part of my punishment."

"What the hell kind of punishment it that?" Norman asked, surprised by the odd manner of 'correction.'

"Don't ask," Edgar said flatly, running his hand over his face and getting off the bed.

"You know I'm gonna ask anyway," Norman said, one eyebrow raised. He watched his little brother sit down on the floor to put his sneakers on.

Edgar responded with the best explanation he could. "Sig wanted to let me off easy. I tried to explain but he won't listen. I think he came up with some bullshit punishments just to shut me up and dinner tonight was one of them," Edgar muttered as he tied his shoes.

"Not sure how you can see what happened last night as being 'let off easy,' Edgar?" Norman shared his honest opinion.

Edgar was clearly refusing to look at him at this point and Norman knew Sig was on to something, thinking there was a lot more going on with this kid than they knew about. _The Kid is hiding something cause he still feels guilty_.

Trying his usual tactic, Norman laughed and added, "You know, kid, all the times dad gave me a licking, I never once turned around after it was over and asked him for more."

_I can play this game, too, Norman_. "Well, I guess you got enough attention, then," Edgar quipped, tying his other sneaker and running out of his room laughing while dodging the barrage of pillows being thrown at his head.

* * *

With a little help from Norman, Edgar made Storm Soup for dinner. Storm Soup consisted of whatever was left in the house to throw together. Since shopping day was tomorrow, there wasn't much left in the house to eat anyway. He also felt the weather outside was an appropriate excuse to whip up a good Storm Soup.

Tossing left over shredded chicken from Thursday night's meal into a big metal pot filled with broth, Edgar added diced carrots, dried beans, chunks of potatoes, a little celery and onions and a generous helping of herbs and spices. The smell permeated the house and made the place feel more like home. Like mom was still around, making life easy and comfortable for her 'tough men.'

When the soup was ready, Norman called once upstairs for Sig. He didn't get a response and wasn't about to push his luck. The grizzle bear would come out of his cave when he was ready or when hunger got the best of him.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Norman and Edgar tried to enjoy the meal and ignore both storms currently invading their lives.

After a few minutes of silence, Norman asked causally, "So, how'd the bike handle last night?"

Edgar froze, keeping his head down and hiding his expression. _Shit, what exactly is he talking about? _

Luckily, Norman chattered away before waiting for the answer. "I mean, you only got to the store and around the block but…did you notice anything different with the bike? Handle better? Humming like a well-oiled machine, was she?" Norman said, beaming with pride before his brother even answered.

Edgar hid a sigh of relief into his soup bowl. Looking up, he saw his brother's proud expression from across the table. "Yeah, Norman, the bike is better than when I got it. What'ch do, anyway?" Edgar asked with a smile.

"I'll show you someday, Ed. Can't tell you now. Then you won't need me anymore," Norman said with a big grin.

"I'll always need you," Edgar whispered, bowing his head a little at the embarrassing comment that just seemed to slide out past his lips.

Norman couldn't respond verbally to that comment because his heart just exploded inside his chest. Instead, he just kept slurping his soup and ripped a hunk of bread off from the loaf on the table. Buttering it liberally, he thought, _I'll always need you, too, kid. Always. And I'll always be around for you. Oh FUCK IT!_

"Edgar," Norman called the name softly.

Edgar looked up.

"I'll always need you, too, kid. Always. And I'll always be around for you. I ain't going anywhere. I'm…not going fishing next year. Just so you know," Norman said quietly.

See the shocked look across the table, Norman continued, "I'm going to college next fall. I'll stay local and live at home, at least that's the plan. I want to study engineering. What'ch think 'bout them apples?"

Edgar must have liked them apples a whole lot because he was hugging his brother within ten seconds of the announcement. Norman didn't even have time to get up from the kitchen chair.

* * *

As Edgar dried the dinner dished, relief washed over him again and again. Like waves, the feeling hit him about twenty times a minute. _Someone in this family is NOT gonna leave me. Mom's gone…forever. Dad's gonna…most of the time. Sig will be gone…don't want to even think about that. But Norman is staying. I won't be alone for the rest of my childhood. If Elliot and his crew showed up on the porch right now and apologized for their evil ways, releasing me from my bonds, I still won't be as happy as I am at this moment. _

Infused with pure happiness, Edgar grabbed a folding tray from atop the refrigerator and pulled it down. Placing it on the kitchen table, he loaded it with a large bowl of hot soup, a buttered roll, a full glass of ice water, utensils, napkin and a Dixie cup with two aspirin from the cabinet.

Watching this process with a wary eye, Norman turned from the dishes in the sink and mumbled, "Do you have some kind of death wish, little brother?" Norman had already figured out where this lovely offering was headed.

As the lovely meal headed up the stairs, Edgar called back, 'If I'm not down in ten minutes, call the police."

"If you're not down in ten minutes, I'm calling the coroner and not wasting the cops' time," Norman grumbled. In his mind, he sent a mental message to his older brother, not that Sig could hear it. _Shithead, so help me God, you upset this kid and I will come up there and kick your ass._ Trying another route, Norman prayed to his mom that Sig would not blow this opportunity to apologize, and, in turn, allowing the kid to just enjoy his night worry-free.

Edgar entered his oldest brother's room without knocking and a cardinal rule set forth by a hot-headed, blond eight-year-old many years ago was broken. Seeing a large, sleeping form under the covers, Edgar cautiously entered the dark bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Knowing the room well enough to maneuver in the darkness, Edgar found the desk and turned on the light with his free hand. No response from the figure under the blanket.

Steeling his courage, tray in both hands, Edgar sat on the edge of the bed and called his brother's name softly. "Hey, I brought you dinner," he offered gently.

Sig stirred, groaned, stretched and groaned again. Peeking his head out from under the covers, he saw his little brother holding mom's good serving tray. This tray was often used in times of chicken pox, strep throat, ear aches, fevers and a multitude of childhood illnesses over the years. Now, it was used for withdrawal symptoms.

Sitting up and grabbing his head slightly to shield his eyes from the excruciatingly painful light, Sig shifted the covers back and rested his back against the pillow-propped headboard. Edgar noticed he looked absolutely terrible. The blond hair, usually neatly combed, was sticking out everywhere. Dark circles and bags clung to his brother's eyes. It was possible that Sig may have been crying but Edgar dismissed the thought. _Big, tough brother would never cry himself to sleep._

Sig looked at Edgar, realizing the kid was pretty brave to face the monster and he had to smile. Edgar relaxed and smiled back.

Sig patted the covers in front of him and Edgar dropped to tray very carefully on his brother's lap.

"Storm soup ~ very good choice, Edgar," Sig whispered, his voice cracking from the sandpaper in his throat.

Edgar sat lightly next to his brother on the edge of the bed and handed him the glass of ice water. Sig took it gladly. Edgar also picked up the Dixie cup, dropping the aspirin in his hand and offering them, saying softly, "Thought this might help with your headache."

"I'll try anything, kid, but I think this is a different kind of headache," Sig explained.

Taking the aspirin and water, Sig consumed both quickly, returning the glass to the tray.

"I'm going to the movies with Norman. Is that ok?" Edgar asked, not realizing beforehand he did not have his brother's permission to go.

"Yes, Norman already asked. Do you want to go?' Sig asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, I want too," Edgar said eagerly. Thinking about it, he asked hopefully, "You want to come with us?"

"No. I'm not good company tonight. Another time, maybe," Sig explained gently, not wanting his brother feeling sorry for him.

Edgar rose to leave, "Ok, I'll let you be now."

Sig caught his hand and guided him back down to the seated position. "No, listen first, ok? I need to apologize."

Edgar bowed his head, "No you don't. It's ok. Don't worry about it." Trying to get up to leave again, the ring-clad hand squeezed tighter.

Sig explained gently, "Edgar, I let you apologize to me when you feel like you let me down, even when I don't think there's anything to apologize for. So, I deserve the same opportunity and respect when I feel like I let you down, which I really did this time. So please just sit and listen."

Edgar could not argue with the honest and logical statement. Listening respectfully, he nodded his head.

Sig did not release his brother's hand. Instead, he inner-laced his fingers with his brother's smaller ones. He began softly, "I am very sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean a word of what I said. I lost it but being miserable and hurting are no excuses. I'm really sorry if I scared you and got you upset, thinking I was mad at you. Can you forgive me?"

"Sig," Edgar explained, "I love you. I could never stay mad at you."

Sig smiled, "So why is it when I say that, you gotta keep asking for my forgiveness?"

Edgar just smiled and bowed his head. Sig was right. _Why is it always easier to give forgiveness than to accept it?_

Sig ruffled his brother's hair, thanked him for the food and sent him on his way with strict orders to have a good time tonight. Sig teased Edgar about being obedient and that now he had to have fun. Edgar said he would try very hard to obey his brother, knowing all the while this would not be a difficult order to follow.

* * *

Edgar sat on the closed toilet lid and watched Norman shaving his face over the sink. Eyeing the process carefully for future reference, Edgar jabbered on like a monkey. Norman tried to carefully answer the questions that consisted of: what movie, who pays for what, what do I do if she wants to pay, do I sit next to her, do I open the door for her, etc. Cutting himself for the third time, Norman gave up and responded with "Ummhmm" or "Naw."

Splashing a liberal dose of aftershave and wincing from the sting, Norman left Edgar chattering away as he proceeded down the hall and put on his best, button-down shirt and black, leather cowboy boots.

Edgar started calling questions from out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Norman heard Sig laughing his ass off in his room. _You come answer some of these questions, smart-ass. Then see whose laughing. Why'd I get myself in this?_

Grabbing his cowboy hat from the back of his bedroom door, Norman looked at the posters gracing his bedroom walls. Most posters had buxom girls displaying ALMOST all their assets and wearing 'come hither' looks. _If only it was that easy, this kid wouldn't have 21+ questions. _

"The FORD, which is the only maker of real-men's vehicles, is leaving in three minutes, Edgar, so I suggest you just figure things out as you go," Norman called from the top of the steps and loud enough for the Pontiac owner hiding in his bedroom to hear. Grumbling something about "at least get a Mustang, for Christ' sake," Norman headed down the steps.

Following his big brother's lead, Edgar raced back to his room, tossing his t-shirt over his head and putting on his best button-down shirt before running down the stairs. He yelled, "Goodbye, Sig! Hope you feel better" over his shoulder as he left.

* * *

Heading over to Amanda's house, Norman kept the radio up loud in an effort to dodge the onslaught of questions. Edgar took the gentle hint and kept quiet, watching the rain batter against the passenger side window. He tried to keep himself from feeling nervous.

Pulling into the driveway of the two-story, Colonial style house, Norman parked the truck. Both boys got out, running through the raindrops before getting completely soaked. Under the safety of the overhang, Norman rang the doorbell and took off his cowboy hat, smoothing his hair down some. Edgar suppressed a giggle.

A lovely, petite thirteen-year-old girl answered the door. "Come on in," Sally said, "You guys look positively drenched out there."

Walking into the foyer, Sally's older sister, Amanda came strolling down the stairs. Edgar watched Norman watching Amanda walk down the steps and he knew his brother was completely in love with this girl. Norman's blue eyes lit up just looking at her and only a little brother would notice the short intake of breath Norman tried to cover up with a fake cough.

Amanda was Norman's equal in every way. She was also petite, like her sister, with shoulder-length blond hair and the same amber eyes. Amanda was sweet, kind-hearted but had a sharp-tongue and could give Norman a run for his money in the smart-ass comments department. Edgar had met her many times before, at family functions and when she was invited to his house, and he liked her very much. He figured this was a good thing since someday this girl was likely to be his sister-in-law.

Sweeping his girl into a tight embrace, Norman planted a big kiss on her lips. He was not the least bit embarrassed to do this in front of both their younger siblings. Amanda, on the other hand, bustled a little under the affection and pretended to shove him away, reminding Norman to mind his manners…and his hands. Norman only smiled. His hands had already been all over every inch of her at some point in the last few years.

Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, Edgar smiled shyly at Sally during the hug and she smiled back. Edgar rolled his eyes behind his big brother's back and Sally hid a laughed behind her hot pink nails. It was a good start.

The girls decided against going to the movies, not wanting to get their hair wet in the rain. Neither Norman nor Edgar could understand that, since you have to get your hair wet in the shower, but they graciously agreed to stay in and watch a movie at home. The girls' parents were out for the night, so four teenagers were left home alone.

After making popcorn, Norman snuggled with Amanda on the sofa. Edgar and Sally watched the movie from the floor, not saying a word to each other during the entire show. Norman, on the other hand, was being sweetly torture by long, dark red fingernails that kept running up and down his leg, almost going JUST far enough and then stopping. About an hour of this torture and Norman was at the end of his torture tolerance. Since the younger siblings were engrossed in the movie, he whispered something in Amanda's ear about meeting him in the powder room off the hallway.

The craving to be inside of her was killing him and he knew he shouldn't, but Norman just couldn't help himself. He was deeply in love and deeply aroused and it had been a while. His brother would never notice he was gone. Saying something to Sally and Edgar about going to make more popcorn, Amanda and Norman slipped out of the living room and pretended to head to the kitchen. Once they got around the corner, Norman barely had time to pull Amanda into the bathroom before she took her shirt off. Shutting the door behind him, sadly forgetting to lock it, Norman began the process of satisfying his cravings.

* * *

At that very moment, another older brother was also longing to satisfy his cravings of an entirely different sort.

Sig sat in his car, watching the rain blur the neon sign for the convenience store in front of him. The Trans Am was parked, no longer running and he had been sitting there for close to an hour. Five times, he got out of the car, only to immediately get back in.

Torturing himself, he debated his choices. On one hand: _God, I'm eighteen-years-old. I can smoke. It's legal. Everybody does it. My brothers will NEVER know. Just one. Just one to help get through this. I'll throw the rest away. Well, maybe I'll hide them, just in case. My head hurts so badly and this will help. My hands will stop shaking. That would be a good thing. Why put myself through this? I could quit after dad comes home. _

On the other: _I promised both my brothers I was quitting. The look on Edgar's face when I told him I was quitting alone should keep me from going in there and buying the dreaded, little red and white box. Norman would never let me live it down if I went back to smoking. Mom's good mixing bowl. _

After an hour, Sig made his final, difficult decision and went home.

* * *

Edgar noticed that the new batch of popcorn had yet to make its way to the living room. _How long does it take to make popcorn? I also gotta pee, damn it_. A little humiliated, he asked Sally where the bathroom was. She pointed around the corner and down the hallway.

Getting up off the floor and stretching slightly, Edgar asked Sally if she wanted a drink or anything. She shyly shook her head 'no.' He started wondering if the girl could talk at all but he just smiled reassuringly at her. _I'm not a bad guy. You can talk to me._

Wandering down the hallway, Edgar noticed the door to the bathroom was shut. Figuring his brother and his girlfriend were in the kitchen, Sally in the living room and no one else home, he opened the door and flipped on the light.

* * *

Neither one of the younger Hansens finding release in the bathroom, Norman and Edgar drove home in complete silence. Making quick excuses about having to get up early, they left Amanda's house quickly and headed home in the rain.

Getting back to the house, Norman turned off the car and both of them ran to the porch. Coming in slightly drenched and a lot embarrassed, they shook off the raindrops and found their oldest brother sitting at the kitchen table reading a book.

"You're both back early," Sig said, looking up to the clock over his novel.

Norman ignored him, saying softly to Edgar, "Go to the bathroom. Get changed and come back down."

Edgar avoided Sig's questioning look and practically ran upstairs. He had to pee pretty badly but mostly he wanted to erase the image that was now burned into his brain. The sight that greeted him in Amanda's parent's bathroom would have been most fascinating and thought-provoking…if I hadn't been his brother's muscular bare backside exposed with his girlfriend's legs wrapped around him and her back against the bathroom wall.

*********Norman's Flashback, one hour before**********

Norman had frozen in mid-thrust when he heard the door open. Amanda looked up over his shoulder and gasped. A second too late, the door shut again.

"Please tell me that wasn't my little brother," Norman murmured against her hair.

Amanda was just as horrified but managed to say, "And what…you'd rather it have been my little sister?"

Norman debated if he should continue his pursuit of satisfaction but other parts of his anatomy made the decision for him._ DAMN IT!_ Never one to leave a girl hanging, Norman gentle disengaged from his position, removed the condom that was now unneeded and flushed it down the toilet. Laying Amanda on the floor, he used other methods to make sure at least one of them satisfied their cravings. To this day, no Hansen man has ever left a girl disappointed.

**********END FLASHBACK**********

Now Norman paced back and forth rapidly on the kitchen floor, horrified about what he had to tell his oldest brother.

"We need to talk to the kid," Norman announced quietly and quickly before Edgar returned.

"Why," Sig asked, instantly concerned, "What kind of talk?"

"Not a talk…THE talk," Norman said, still pacing and speaking just above a whisper.

Looking at Sig's expression, one that Norman couldn't quite identify, he explained, "Edgar walked in on Amanda and I…"

Norman was unable to continue. Thankfully, Sig got it.

Dodging the book that was thrown in his direction, Norman sat down at the table and buried his head in his hands.

"WHAT THE HELL, Norman? With your little brother in the next room?" Sig yelled, his face turning beet red.

"Shit, Sig," Norman pleaded, looking up desperately, "It just happened. You know how these things just happen!"

Sig wanted to kill this little brother in front of him but he let his concern take the lead. "I hope to God these things that just happened happened with protection cause I sure as hell ain't ready to be an uncle! I'm already a surrogate father this summer!" Sig yelled in a whisper, hearing the toilet flush upstairs and the water running for the sink.

Norman had the good sense to look abashed. "We always use protection. God, I'm not stupid," Norman muttered.

"Stupid enough to have sex with your thirteen-year-old brother in the next God-damn room," Sig hissed, "Kid's probably horrified, embarrassed and totally confused. Great job, Norman. Now, you gotta talk to him."

Norman started begging fast, "Please, Sig, PLEASE! You gotta help me. We'll talk to him together."

Sig wanted to say,_ Oh no, you got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out_, but was trapped in the kitchen by a youngest brother now entering the room.

Shooting Norman a look that could kill, Sig watched his youngest brother shuffle into the room with his eyes and head lowered. Edgar took the seat across from his brothers.

"I'll make tea," Norman offered, getting up.

Sig grabbed him by the hand and sat him back down hard, "I need something a lot stronger than tea, Norman."

Edgar looked up and found two very nervous older brothers sitting across from him. "I'd like tea," he whispered, not sure where all this was going. He thought, _if Norman wants tea, let him make it._

Sig nodded and Norman stood up. Walking over to the stove, Norman turned on the kettle and grabbed three mugs from the cabinet. _If Sig doesn't want his tea, I'll drink it. _

Silence overtook the kitchen. Only the sounds of the hissing tea kettle, the clinking of cups and the rain were heard. Sig won't make eye contact with his youngest brother, too embarrassed to do so. Edgar started to get worried.

Tea made, a cup in front of everyone, no one was about to make the first move in this poker hand. The silence built into a heavy tension and no one would look poor, confused Edgar in the eye.

Finally close to crying, Edgar whispered, "Am I in trouble?"

Norman looked over at him and said simply, "As long as there are boobs in this world, kid, we're all in trouble."

~tbc

Please review


	25. Two Important Things

**A/N: Shorter chapter, thank God! Not an easy one to write. **

**WARNINGS: Mention of spanking, adult content, language. **

* * *

Edgar glanced over at Norman with a confused look. Not knowing what to make of the 'boob' comment, he looked back to his oldest brother for help.

"Seriously, am I in trouble?" Edgar asked.

"No, kid, YOU are not the one in trouble here," Sig explained, "The tough guy sitting next to me, on the other hand…"

Norman shamefully hung his head.

"…has a lot of explaining to do," Sig finished his statement.

Immediately coming to his brother's defense, Edgar blurted, "I didn't see anything."

Sig smiled. "If you didn't see anything, then why are you telling me you didn't see anything?" he wisely asked. _Now I know you saw too much._

Now Edgar hung his head shamefully.

Turning to their middle brother with a sigh, Sig announced, "Now, dear brother, is the perfect time for an apology."

Knowing full well Sig was correct, Norman lifted his head and tried to make eye contact with Edgar. Edgar was studying the table and starting to rub at his face, a clear sign of his nervousness.

"Ed…" Norman began, trying to get the kid's attention.

Edgar did not look up but interrupted, "No, please, please…no more apologizes…that's all we seem to do around here."

Sig stilled Norman with a touch of his hand on Norman's shoulder. Holding his one index finger over his lips towards their middle brother, Sig turned back to Edgar. The kid was still studying the floor.

Sig got up from the table, walked around and turned Edgar's chair sideways, facing the living room. Sig crouched down in front of his youngest brother and knelt on the floor. Gently putting his hand under Edgar's chin, Sig lifted his face up.

"Edgar, look at me," was the soft command.

Edgar responded immediately to the gentle touch and his brother's soft voice. In the deep blue eyes staring at him, Edgar found reassurance and trust.

Sig gave the kid a giant smile. Edgar smiled back, his green eyes lighting up just a bit.

"Remember what I said to you, upstairs, when you brought me dinner? The soup was delicious, by the way. But do you remember what I said about letting people apologize?" Sig asked quietly.

Edgar nodded. He remembered.

"Ok, then, little brother. This is one of those times." Sig said reassuringly, adding, "Cause you are not in ANY trouble. You did nothing wrong."

"Well, someone must have done something wrong cause you're both making me nervous." Edgar explained.

Norman interjected, "Yeah and that someone who did something wrong would be me. ALL me, ok? Not you. So please don't be nervous. Sorry if we're making feel that way, ok?"

Sig moved his hand from under Edgar's chin, placing it on the back of his neck gently. "Edgar," Sig explained, "It ain't you that should be nervous. The tough guy and I, well, we're the nervous ones."

"Why?' Edgar's head shot up, "You both ain't afraid of shit. What'ch got to be nervous about?"

Norman cleared his throat, but a look from his older brother shut down the smart ass comment before it left his lips.

Sig explained further, giving his little brother direct eye contact. 'First of all, littlest brother, despite your high esteem of us, Norman and I are, indeed, afraid of things. Many things, in fact." Sig voice got soft and he added, "You getting hurt in any way is at the top of list. My list, anyway."

"Mine, too, Edgar," Norman added without hesitation, his voice suddenly as soft as his older brother.

Both Sig and Edgar looked over at Norman out of the corner of their eyes. Neither one thought Norman was capable of such a soft tone. Apparently, they were wrong. Norman pointedly ignored the questioning gazes by focusing on the rain hitting the kitchen window.

Returning his full attention back to Edgar, Sig went on, "See, we both have fears. Maybe we're not as tough as you think."

Edgar gave his brother a crooked smile, "No, you both are tough as nails. You just worry about me too much. I can take care of myself."

Sig raised one eyebrow, "Ummm, no. Not yet, kid. But you will be, one day at least. And as your older brothers, its part of our job to make sure you have all the information you need to take care of yourself when that day comes." Sig hesitated for a moment, continuing, "Which leads me to why Norman and I are so nervous."

Sig stood up, getting sore from crouching, and started rubbing his sweaty palms against the fabric of his jeans.

Seeing the nervous actions of his older brother, Norman bulked at the upcoming conversation. "Sig, maybe he ain't ready for this?' he said, rethinking his intentions to clarify the unfortunate events of the evening.

Turning cold eyes towards Norman, Sig said flatly, "Too late, Norm. You let the cat out of the bag…so to speak."

"Awww, Sig, please. Stop making me feel bad about it" Norman whined, "I didn't know it was gonna happen. I just wasn't…thinking."

"See, he wasn't thinking, Sig, "Edgar said, defending his hormone-driven brother, "Remember when YOU said there must be some defect in the teenage brain that makes us do this stuff."

Edgar smiled over at Norman. _I got your back, bro._

Norman did not smile back.

"No," Norman explained, shaking his head, "Don't do that. Don't defend me. I was wrong. 100% wrong. And I AM Sorry (shooting a look up at Sig), Edgar. I should have never, EVER done something like that with you in the next room. It was just very thoughtless and…wrong."

Edgar looked confused and asked quickly, "So what you were doing was…wrong?"

Norman started biting his fingernails and said nervously, "Hmmm…how do I explain this?"

"Yes, Norman," Sig crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his back against the counter, "Please explain."

Norman looked up at the ceiling and let out a big, deep sigh. Looking back slowly, he tried several times to speak, throwing his hands up after a while. The wide, green eyes in front of him were just too much.

Edgar looked from one exasperated brother to a nervous brother and back. No one seemed to want to give him an answer. "Ok," he said, hands slicing in front of him, "Will someone please talk to me? What the hell are we talking about?"

Sig gave Norman a disgusted look. _Why do I always have to take care of everything._ "Sex, kid," Sig said flatly, "We are trying to have the "sex" talk with you. Except no one is talking at the present time, so we ain't getting anywhere."

Norman tried grasping at straws, "Edgar, did mom ever…talk to you…about…sex?"

Edgar looked horrified by the question and didn't answer.

The look on the kids face said enough. "No," Sig explained gently, "She never talked to us, either. That was dad's department."

It was hard to believe but Edgar managed to look even more horrified at that thought.

Norman smiled, 'Don't worry. Dad doesn't have a very long conversation to offer on the subject."

"But the advice he gave was pretty important, I'll give 'em that," Sig muttered.

"What advice?' Edgar asked.

Sig pulled up a chair and sat next to Edgar, looking him in the eye. Taking deep breath, he steeled his courage. "Ok, Edgar," Sig started gently, "Let's do this. You get to ask us anything you want. Anything. I don't care how embarrassing the question, you just ask it, ok? Norman and I will do our best to give you a straight, honest answer. Even if it's embarrassing for us, we'll tell you what we can. Sound like a good idea?" Sig gave the kid an encouraging smile.

Edgar didn't need the encouraging smile. He felt he had two certified experts in front of him and they were final ready to share long-kept secrets he longed to know the answers too.

"Ok, but I have lots of questions," Edgar replied, getting a little red in the cheeks.

Norman said softly, "Just so you know, kid, we may not have all the answers you're looking for but…we'll do our best. So…shoot."

Edgar went to his first question, one he already got a bird's eye view of the answer. "So, you can do it standing up?"

"Jesus, Norman," Sig muttered under his breath and threw up his hands.

"It was a bathroom, Sig. What do you want?" Norman explained.

Sig shook his head. _Difficult first question, right off the bat. _"Yes…you can do it standing up. There are lots of different positions for that…kind of stuff."

"Like…?" Edgar pressed.

"Well, most of the time, the guy is on top and the girl is on the bottom," Sig said, wanting to crawl under the table.

"Is that the best way?" Edgar asked innocently.

"I think it's a personal preference. Whatever you and she are comfortable with, I guess," Sig explained, adding, "Let's just make this clear, first. The you and she in this discussion are significantly older than you are right now. Just because we're talking about this doesn't mean you get to run out and try all this now. You're a little young for all this." _Did I seriously just age about 50 years in the last two minutes? Note to self, do not have children. Who knew this parenting thing would turn out to be just one chance after another to be a big, fat hypocrite. First, smoking. Now, sex. I was just a little older than this kid the first time. _

"But Norman's only four years older than me," Edgar said flatly, not liking being called 'a little young.'

"True," Norman explained, "But, well, the fact of the matter is, Edgar,…I love her."

Sig and Edgar turned their attention to the lover boy at the table.

"Well, I do," Norman said, arms crossed defensively, "I love her very much. I'm gonna marry her someday. So, Edgar, for your question about if it was wrong, the answer for me is no. Only YOU seeing what you saw was wrong."

"We're you guys always in love when you…did it?" Edgar asked evenly, at least as evenly as he could fake.

Norman and Sig chafed under this question, both now biting their lips nervously. Sig went with the 'honesty is the best policy' answer, "No…sometimes it was just…for fun. But, it's true what they say about it being better with someone that you love and someone that loves you. That's not just one of those 'old-folks' sayings that turns out to be a myth." _At least, at the time, it was the sweetest moment of my life. Now, I can't even think about it._

"Sig's right, kid. I had my share of encounters, so to speak, but it's a million times better with Amanda than all those girls put together. So, I guess the best advice we can give you on that is to wait until you fall in love and you're both ready," Norman explained with a smile.

"How will I know…when I'm ready?" Edgar asked with a shrug.

Sig sighed, "Well, that's something you and her will have to decide. Just make sure you are BOTH ready, not just you." _I was ready. She was ready. She told me she loved me a hundred times. And I loved her. I told her the truth. She lied._

Norman started softly, "Here are two extremely important things to remember. Are you listening?"

Edgar turned his chair to face back at the kitchen table. Norman could see he had Edgar's full attention. Maybe a little too much attention. _Try not to look so eager about all this kid, please. You're killing me with that look._

"Ok, one, the girl must ALWAYS (Norman gave Edgar a hard, firm stare) be willing. No trying to talk her into it or getting pushy. She says, "NO," its "NO." Period." Norman pointed a finger at Edgar, "I mean that, Edgar. Even if she SEEMED willing at one point but then she changes her mind along the way, you respect that."

Edgar looked a little shocked by his brother's hard tone. He felt it was totally unnecessary. Lifting his chin slightly, he responded firmly, "I ain't looking to hurt nobody, Norman."

Sig explained gently, "Norman's not saying you are. It's just, sometimes, things get out of hand and you may need to have a lot of self-control in some situations. That's why it's important to wait till you're a little older." _Don't get messed up with girls yet. Nothing but trouble and heartbreak can come of it._

"But I have self-control, Sig." Edgar said quickly, defending himself.

Sig's eyebrow went up, "Really? How much self-control did you have just yesterday when you lost track of time and didn't come home like you were suppose too?"

Edgar bowed his head and lowered his eyes. _I just gotta take that one because he doesn't know that's not what really happened. In reality, I had a whole lot of self-control yesterday. Except for the smoking. That was definitely low self-control. Ok, maybe Sig's on to something here._

Sig felt guilty the minute the words came out of his mouth. He just wanted to make a point. Even though it was a good one, he still shouldn't have brought up last night.

Putting his hand back under Edgar's chin, Sig lifted the little face. _Wow, he's starting to get acne. One pimple, right on his chin. Guess we have to add more stuff to the grocery list for tomorrow_. "Sorry, Edgar. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, just…I don't know. With girls, it's complicated and it ain't as easy as you may think," Sig explained, giving his little brother a quick smile. _Extremely complicated. One day, they tell you they love you and the next…they're gone._

Norman gave a loud "Humph" in agreement of Sig's statement on girls and being complicated.

Sig added further, "And just because she might be willing doesn't mean you have to be. Don't just 'do it' with the first pretty girl that comes along. Just…use discretion." _And don't fall in love….I don't know what the hell I am saying. I can specifically remember having this conversation with Norman and telling him to get everything that he could. Hell, I took everything I could get. What the hell is wrong with me? Why is it different with this kid? I love Norman and Edgar the same. Why does Edgar get different advice now? Maybe I know too much. _

Norman raised an eyebrow at the 'discretion' comment but had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. Edgar was definitely getting a different set of advice than he got. _You're not his father, Sig. Stop pretending that you are. Oh, wait…Oh, God, what happened to us_. Norman mentally relived that hug he witnessed in the kitchen between his brothers the day after the bike accident. _Hold on to that. We'll get through this, somehow. Somehow, we'll get through this summer and go back to being normal. Well, better than normal. _

Edgar gave a little shrug. "I get what you guys are saying. I'm not ready for sex yet and I know that. But, I get a lot of weird information from the guys at school and I saw some things go on at the Shack…"

Sig stood up suddenly and walked over to the sink. He needed a drink and the hot tea wasn't gonna cut it. The ice water wasn't gonna cut it either, but that's what he got. A tall glass of ice water that he drank slowly…very slowly, while his hands began to shake in anger. _I can only imagine what my little brother was exposed to down there. God, the stuff that goes on at the place makes what Norman did look like praying in church. My baby brother ~ 13 years old ~ and God only knows what he saw. I can't think about it. It's too much. It hurts too much._

Sig sudden actions caused Edgar to tense up. He immediately sensed he made a big mistake, bringing that place back up. _Sig is clearly upset now and maybe mad again. That was pretty stupid, saying that. But I did see some things down there that were…indescribable._

With Sig's back to them, Edgar looked over at Norman with pleading eyes.

Not wanting the kid to relive bad memories, Norman continued on quickly with his 'two important things' speech. "Second thing…always use protection. Even if she tells you not to worry about, you make sure YOU take the time to worry about it." Norman gave Edgar a stern nod, adding, "By the way, that was dad's only advice on the subject. Therefore, if he ever tries to have this talk with you, just nod your head and act like it's the first time you're hearing it, ok?"

"Do you know," Sig turned from the sink and asked hesitantly, "What Norm means by protection, kid?"

"Yeah, I think so," Edgar said shyly, "A condom, right?"

Sig turned back around and gazed out the kitchen window. _Holy moly, this kid just went trick-or-treating in October and here he is using the word 'condom.' Early teenage years are strange times, indeed. One minute, you're holding onto your teddy bear at night. The next day, someone is offering you drugs at school. I'm in over my head with this._

Lucky, Norman picked up on Sig's mental check outs and continued to engage Edgar in this riveting, yet extremely embarrassing, conversation. "Yes, Edgar. A condom. Use one. EVERY SINGLE TIME. Got it?"

Edgar nodded his head up and down like a bobble-head doll.

Still staring out the window, Sig added, "But don't think that using a condom saves you. There are times when they don't work. So, please, unless you are really ready, just wait a little longer, ok?" At this point, Sig realized all he was going to add to this conversation were pleas and excuses to wait 'till you're older.' _I have become a parent. When did this happen? I use to be so freaking cool. _

"So…how do you…use one?" Edgar asked, stopping the bobble-head motion that was making Norman nauseous.

Sig put his hand over his mouth and unconsciously pretended to smoke an imaginary cigarette.

Norman, being a resourceful guy, left the kitchen and headed to his bedroom. Sig continued to stare out the window and Edgar continued staring at his back. Thankfully, Norman returned to the kitchen a minute later, said item in his hand. After a quick, but efficient, demonstration, there was one less banana to be eaten in the Hansen household.

"Oh," was all Edgar had to say as he watched the condom-covered banana getting tossed into the trash. "Seems simple enough," the youngest Hansen added with a small smile.

"Always keep one on you, in your pocket or glove box, but never in your wallet. Girls don't seem to like that for some reason and it leaves a ring in the leather that makes it real obvious," Norman added, getting into the spirit of the conversation._ Finally, someone that needs my advice instead of the other way around. It was me always crawling up to my big brother, begging for informati_o_n. Now I get to be the big brother. Difficult, but rewarding, all at the same time. It's a damn good thing, too, because Sig is struggling with this big time. _

"Ok, keep a condom with me at all times. Easy enough," Edgar said, looking at the floor.

"But, you don't need to start carrying one now. And, no, they are not getting added to the list of things you need at the store. You ever need condoms, you ask me or your brother for one," Sig said to the glass in the window.

Edgar looked up, at little surprised by the 'fatherly' tone in his oldest brother's voice. Taking a deep sigh, he resigned himself to the idea that their relationship, Sig and his relationship, had been drastically altered this summer. _Sir…I've called my big brother that about ten or so times, mostly when I was in trouble. What did I expect to happen afterwards? That things would just go back to normal all the time? I guess it just doesn't work like that. _

In his usually way, Norman looked at Edgar and pointed to himself, smiling like a Cheshire cat. "Ask me," he mouthed wordlessly so that Sig wouldn't hear or see the offer. _I know you're hurtin', kid. I can see it in your face. You think you lost your big brother. You didn't. He'll come around. Maybe when you are like, 40 years old , and he's an old man. You still have me, and I am the best big brother in this house. I always knew I was the best_.

Edgar gave Norman a giant grin. "I will," he mouthed back silently.

Although he didn't hear or see the exchange, Sig sensed a bond form behind his back. Pushing away the feelings of jealousy, he knew this was the price he'd pay the first time he picked up that paddle and agreed to be 'dad' for the summer. _Well, I didn't actually agree to be 'dad.' I kinda had that thrown at me when mom died and dad had to go back to work. I am lucky to have you Norman. Honest to God, I am. Because this kid needs a big brother as much as he needs a father. And I don't know what I am anymore. I just know that I love him and I want what's best for him. And going and getting some girl pregnant or getting some kind of STD is NOT what is best for him. I never even thought about that stuff when it came to you and me. I sure as hell think about it now, for all three of us._

"Next question," Norman asked kindly.

Edgar had many, many questions related to this topic. Some of them were: How many girls have you both been with, what was it like the first time, Matt says if you kiss a girl sitting on a bed, she can get pregnant so is that true?

But all his questions about sex were forgotten. His oldest brother had shut down on him. Sig wouldn't even look at him. Something was very wrong. And nothing matter more to him than that.

"Sig?" Edgar asked softly.

Sig's back stiffened, dreading the next sex-related question being directed at him. _Please don't ask me how many girls I've been with. I don't want to lie to you but I sure as hell ain't telling you that till…you're older. Jesus, what's will the 'being older' solution ~ because I don't want you to get hurt. Like I got hurt. I can't watch that. _

Finding his courage, Sig answered to the window, "Yeah?"

"Were you ever in love?"

Sig almost collapsed to the floor. "Yes, Edgar."

"Sara?" _I remember her. She came to the house a lot when I was younger. She used to bring me candy. Then, one day, she stopped coming and I never saw her again. _

Sig stare out the window, watching the rain slide down the glass. _That name._ He only nodded his head once but it was enough for Edgar to see.

"What happened?"

Norman started vigorously shaking his head from side to side. "NO" he mouthed to Edgar, trying to stop him. Edgar kept going anyway.

'What happened, Sig?"

"She broke my heart."

"Is that why you don't want to talk about this stuff?"

"Part of it, yes."

"You really loved her, didn't you?"

"With all my heart, Edgar."

"And you don't want to see me get hurt…like you did…with her, do you?" Edgar asked to Sig' back, "You said it yourself. It's at the top of your list."

"Yes, I don't want to see you get hurt...ever."

"But I will, Sig. It's gonna happen someday. And you can't prevent it. And you can't protect me."

"I know, Edgar…It hurts just thinking about it."

"But, you'll be there for me when it does. You and Norman. The two of you. As my brothers."

Sig finally turned around and looked his youngest brother in the face. He had tears hanging from his eyelashes but he brushed them off. "Yes, kid…always…as your brothers."

"Then I have no more questions."


	26. Same Blood

**WARNINGS: Heavy topics implied (Suicide, child abuse) but nothing graphic, adult content, one almost swat.**

**Lots of discussions and dialogue so not much action in this chapter. More action in later chapters.**

**Chapter dedicated to Mel, who loves to see the three brothers together.**

**Please review. I try to answer everyone but cannot respond to guests so thank you to all. The reviews really mean a lot. **

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"No more questions? Really?" Norman asked, looking a little disappointed.

Edgar just shook his head from side to side. He still had questions but they could wait until another time.

"I think we're done with THOSE questions for the evening, Norman," Sig said, recovering quickly from the painful memories of his first and only love.

Drinking his ice water and putting the glass in the sink, Sig sat back down at the table. "Just…one more thing, kid," Sig added, noticing his tea had gone cold.

"Sig, if you tell him one more time to wait until he's older…" Norman grumbled.

Sig huffed, turning to face his younger brother, 'What? What'ch gonna do, tough guy?"

Norman gave him a glance out of the corner of his eye, but backed down.

Looking back at Edgar, Sig sighed, "Ok, I flaked out a little on this conversation. I know that. It's just a little harder than I thought, being the 'parent' and the big brother at the same time."

Edgar face fell slightly but he nodded, "I understand." _I know you love me, either way. I'll never forget it._

"I just don't want to see you get hurt or get into some kind of trouble," Sig said, giving the kid his best smile. "I'm not doing a great job with this but, in the future, if you ever have any questions, please come talk to one of us. I'll try to do better next time."

Norman added quickly, pointing over at his younger brother "And don't believe those guys at school, either. They have no idea what they're talking about."

Sig nodded his agreement to that statement. "Norman is definitely right. Just ask one of us. It doesn't matter who, just whichever one of us you're comfortable with."

Edgar gave his oldest brother a smile. He knew what Sig was implying. _You think I'm uncomfortable coming to you with this stuff now, but I'm not. And you're feeling a little jealous that'd I'd rather talk to Norm._ "I'll ask whichever one of you I see first. Because it really doesn't matter who, I feel comfortable with the BOTH of you."

Sig was vastly relieved that he hadn't pushed his youngest brother away by his unexpected 'paternal' feelings. _Maybe I'd feel protective either way, whether I'm the big brother or the guardian. I'm still the older, male relative in his life that loves him and wants what is best for him. _

"Good, cause we'll always be here for you, Edgar. And that's the MOST important thing of all," Sig said, sliding his hand across the table and placing it flat in front of his youngest brother. The class ring glittered under the overhead light in the kitchen.

Edgar put his right hand to top of his brother's, just resting it there gently and noticing how much smaller his hand was compared to Sig's.

Sig smiled all the way to his blue eyes.

Norman laughed, reached over and put his right hand on top of both hands, making a stack on the table. "Always, kid," Norman said with a smile. Pausing for a second, he added, "The same blood that runs in our veins runs in yours. Nothing can ever change that."

Sig and Edgar looked at each other, eyes wide at their brother's profound statement. It was true, of course, but neither one of them ever imagined Norman coming out with something like that.

Sig placed his left hand over Norman's, completing the stack and gave his brother's hand a squeeze. Turning to look at Norman, Sig said, "Wow, Norm. Getting kinda of deep, there, huh?"

Norman pulled his hand back quickly, his face turning a little red. "Whatever," he bristled, "I'm gonna work out in the basement for a while. Surprisingly, I have some energy to burn off."

With that, Norman scuffled off into the basement, leaving his brothers sitting at the table.

Sig and Edgar looked at each other for a minute or two. _Your blood runs in my veins. Forever connected. _

"Want to watch The Love Boat? Comes on in like, five minutes, I think?" Sig asked quickly, trying to move past the heaviness of the conversation. _Too much discussed for one night. Let's move on to something else. Except something is still really bothering me. And I'm gonna have to ask this kid about it or else I'll never sleep again. What exactly happened down at the Shack? I'm scared to death to know but I feel like I have too. Am I hoping in vain that I'm worried for nothing? He's my little brother. I have to know. _

Edgar shook his head at the offer. He hated The Love Boat. It reminded him too much of his mother. Too many times he watched that show with her while his brothers were off with their friends, enjoying their Saturday nights.

Coming up with an alternative wasn't difficult. "Can we play poker?" Edgar asked hopefully.

"Sure, kid," Sig said, standing up to clean out the mugs of tea, "Although I'm getting a little worried you're becoming too good at it."

"I'll do that," Edgar said, reading his brother's actions to clean off the table.

Edgar grabbed his mug and walked over to the sink. Drinking the tea in two gulps, Edgar washed out his cup and put it on the drying rack. Then he turned around, taking both Sig's untouched mug and Norman's empty one and repeated the process. "Do you not like tea, Sig?" Edgar asked absentmindedly as he washed the dishes.

Since Sig was standing anyway, he walked over and got the cards out of the drawer. Sitting back down, he began shuffling the deck. "Not really, although Norman just assumes everyone loves it as much as he does," Sig answered, absentmindedly mixing up the cards.

A minute later, his youngest brother suddenly appeared by his side, silently standing next to him. A twenty dollar bill was in Edgar's hand and he offered it to his oldest brother with a slight push.

Sig looked up at the green eyes, "What's this for?"

"I'm paying you back. I said I would. Norman gave me money for working at the hardware store, although he really didn't have too. I like going with him and helping out," Edgar explained quietly, wanting his brother to know for certain the money was achieved honestly.

Sig turned to face his brother, putting his hand over the money and pushing it back towards Edgar. "Edgar, this is way more than you owe me. Not that I really think you owe me anything anyway. Keep it," Sig said gently, still holding on to his brother's hand.

Edgar pushed the money back towards his brother, holding his ground and his firm stance.

"Are you being defiant with me now?" Sig asked, although there was absolutely no authority in his voice, only a glimpse of humor.

Edgar cocked his eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips.

That particular motion and facial expression caused Sig to lose his breath for a moment. For him, despite the differences in eye and hair color, it was like looking in a mirror at a younger version of himself. _Same blood._

Grabbing the money, his youngest brother's hand with it, Sig pulled Edgar onto his lap.

"Fine, I'll keep what you owe me. The rest goes into your savings account. Deal?" Sig asked. _Ok, one little white lie won't hurt. It's ALL going into your savings account. _

"Deal," Edgar agreed, feeling better about paying back his debt.

Sig took the money and, holding onto his brother with his left arm, stuck the twenty in his back pocket.

"Wanna play now? Or are you scared I'll kick your butt?" Edgar asked with a laugh, trying to get off his brother's lap.

Sig's only response was to put both arms around his brother and hold him close to his chest.

Edgar was slightly confused by the unexpected protective action and the turn of mood. _Can't I still joke around with you?_

"In a minute," Sig said quietly, "There's something…I need to ask you about."

"No, I've never been with a girl. Yes, I'll wait until I'm older," Edgar said, looking up at his brother with a wicked smile. _Ok, I'm still gonna joke around with you because you'll always be my brother first, guardian of my life second. _

_God, sometimes he looks exactly like me. Other times, it's like having a younger version of Norman around the house._ "Smart ass," Sig hissed in his brother's ear, "But I'm glad to hear both answers anyway."

Edgar rubbed his cheek against his brother's shoulder, relaxing that Sig wasn't mad about the teasing. _I am waiting until I'm older – you didn't even need to tell me that. _

"See, I was listening," Edgar said quietly.

"Well, that's a first," Sig said with a laugh.

Edgar gave him a playful shove, "Hey, I listen…most of the time."

"I know," Sig said reassuringly, his voice turning serious, "I was making a joke, a poor one at that, too. You're the best, kid. I mean that."

Putting his arms around his brother's neck, Edgar whispered softly, "I love you, Sig."

The words still hadn't lost their effect. Sig felt like he could hear them a thousand times and his heart would clench each and every time they were uttered.

Tightening his hold, Sig whispered back, "I love you, too, Edgar. Very much. That's why…I have to ask you something. And I really need you to be honest with me."

"Ok," Edgar said, his voice muffled by his brother's shirt.

Sig was quiet. Edgar sensed the hesitation. The rain kept pouring down the outside of the kitchen window. Only the sound of the rain and dumbbells hitting the basement floor could be heard throughout the house. When the grandfather clock struck nine times, nine chimes were added to the sounds inside the house.

_This must be a big question_, Edgar thought, _and the more you wait, the more nervous I get. _

Edgar nudged his brother by putting his nose into Sig's neck

Sig sighed. Waiting was only making it worse. Finding his voice, he asked hoarsely, "Down at the Shack…"

Edgar froze, his entire body tensing at the name of that place coming from his brother's lips. _Please, Sig, please don't ask me about that place. I'm so sorry I brought it up at all when we were talking earlier about sex._

Sig felt the tension. Thinking his brother was nervous or frightened by bad memories, Sig reached up and stroked his brother's soft hair. "Did anyone ever…" Sig started, and then stopped, not wanting to even think about this.

After a few seconds of listening to the rain, Edgar said quietly, "You can ask me anything you want, Sig. Remember?"

Sig lifted his brother closer to him, raising him on his knees. He buried his face into Edgar's shirt, listening to the heartbeat coming from the small chest. "I don't know how to ask you this," Sig said in a breathless whisper.

Edgar ran his hand over the blond hair, twisting the strands that were almost long enough to curl. He just patiently waited for the question.

Finally, Sig asked in an almost inaudible whisper, "Did anyone ever…hurt you…while you were hanging out down there?" _A thirteen-year-old kid, young and innocent, could have been the target for almost anything or anyone at the Shack. God only knows who hangs out there; criminals, losers, dregs of society…perverts_.

Something about the way his brother said the word 'hurt' made Edgar wonder what exactly Sig was talking about because it seemed like he meant more than just 'hurt.' Not really knowing how to answer the question, Edgar reassured his brother the best that he could. "No, Sig," he said quietly, "No one hurt me. They were mean and sometimes they made me do stuff I didn't like but…"

Sig hold grew tighter, "Like what stuff, Edgar?" he asked into his brother's chest. _Jesus, God, please – what stuff did they make you do?_

"Stupid stuff, like drink too much or dumb stunts on my bike. Just stuff like that," Edgar said honestly.

_Thank you God. Thank you for not making it worse than that because it could have been. A lot worse. _

"Did they ever…hit you?"

A long pause. And no answer.

Sig's heart almost stopped beating. It actually may have for a second. _Oh my God, I can't take this._

After a minute, Sig pulled away from his brother and looked him straight in the eye. Edgar was shocked by the look in those blue eyes. _Hatred._

Sig swallowed hard, his mouth twitching slightly and his jaw muscle flexed. "I never thought I'd have it in me to seriously hurt someone but…I swear to God…if any adult lays a hand on you or hurts you…I'll ki…" Sig said, his voice deadly quiet.

Edgar quickly put his hand over his brother's mouth, stopping him. "No, don't say it. It's a sin, Sig. To even think it is a sin," Edgar said, reprimanding his brother and shaking his head. _This is why I will never tell you what I'm up too. You're not going to jail because you were trying to protect me. _

Sig closed his eyes and Edgar removed his hand over his brother's mouth.

"I'm ok, Sig. No one hurt me," Edgar said softly, just trying desperately to get his brother to calm down. He wasn't even sure what he was saying but he would have said almost anything to appease his brother. Snuggling up against his brother's chest, Edgar rubbed his face against the fabric of his shirt. _See, I'm fine. I'm here, with you. Nothing can hurt me._

"It's my fault," Sig whispered, his eyes still closed. It was not possible for him to hold his brother any tighter.

"No, it's not."

"It is," Sig whispered, his voice choking, "You should have never been down there in the first place. I should have been home after mom died. I should have been here for you."

"You're here now."

"I'll never let them hurt you ever again." Sig's voice held so much emotion, he didn't even sound like himself anymore.

"I know."_ I'll never them hurt YOU…or Norman._

"I really need a smoke, Edgar," Sig confessed, finally opening his eyes.

Edgar smiled at the admission. "How about popcorn instead?"

"Ummm, I don't think it will have the same effect but…sure, what the heck," Sig said, giving his brother one last tight squeeze before releasing him off his lap.

* * *

An hour later, Norman came bounding up the stairs, sweaty and out of breath. He found his brothers in a heated game of poker, popcorn spread out all over the table. Heading over to the refrigerator, he pulled out the carton of milk and started drinking right out of the container.

"Jesus, Norm, get a glass, will ya?" Sig griped, losing miserably at the game and getting tired fast. He hadn't slept well the night before and his head was starting to hurt again.

Edgar was as happy as a clam, raking in his fair share of popcorn and just being with his big brothers. _I like it when you're home on Saturday nights. Maybe I should feel guilty about that._

Norman put the carton down and wiped the milk mustache off his face with the back of his hand, making sure to add an overly loud "Ahhh" just to annoy his older brother. Grabbing two glasses, he filled both up with cold milk. Setting one down in front of Edgar, Norman mumbled, "It's good for you. Drink it."

Edgar raised an eye to Sig for help. Instead, Sig nodded his agreement with Norman, tipping his head in the direction of the glass and then back to Edgar.

"Ow, I hate milk, Sig," Edgar whined, putting his cards face down on the table.

Norman sat next to Edgar, pushing the glass closer to his brother. "How else are you gonna get big and strong…" Norman said, bending his arm muscle and flexing his bicep, "….like me, little brother."

"Or tall," Sig said, sitting up straight to show off his full height, "…like me."

"Can't I just take some vitamins or something?' Edgar asked, not impressed with the shows of strength or height being offered.

Sig slumped back down and gave Edgar a look. "Drink the milk, Edgar," was said softly with just a bit of authority.

_Gosh, you'd think hanging out with your brothers would be a barrel of monkeys all the time. But no, I have mother hens for brothers_. "Can I at least have chocolate?" Edgar asked, finally accepting the fact that the milk was going to be consumed, one way or the other.

"Great idea," Norman confirmed, heading to the pantry and grabbing the Hershey's chocolate syrup. A few squirts and a spoon-stirring later, both Norman and Edgar had chocolate milk.

"What about you, big brother?" Edgar asked, a little annoyed he was still going to be treated like a child at times.

"I'm going to bed, kid," Sig said, putting his cards down and standing up. _I hate milk, too, but I ain't about to tell you that. One hypocrite after another, that's me_.

As Sig stretched, Edgar whined and pleaded for him to continue the game. It seemed that Edgar never got enough of hanging out with him.

"You're going to bed soon, too…so no whining," Sig said as he made his way around the table. "We'll play again tomorrow, ok?" Sig asked as he ruffled his youngest brother's hair. He sort of wanted to lean over and kiss the top of Edgar's head, like their mom had always done, but he stopped himself. _Maybe that's too much affection between guys and Edgar probably won't appreciate the reminder of mom. _

"Goodnight, kid," Sig said softly. Turning towards Norman, he put his hand on his brother's shoulder and left it there for just two long seconds. _Thanks for saving my ass today, again. Between the headache outburst, the harrowing drive home in the rain, dinner and pulling out a half-way decent conversation with the kid on sex while I totally flaked out, I've never been more grateful to have you in my life. I seem to be thinking that a lot lately._ "Goodnight, tough guy," was all Sig finally said and then headed up the stairs.

"Get a real car," Norman mumbled under his breath but loud enough for his brother to hear him. Even though the hand on his shoulder was no longer there, he could still feel the contact. And he got the message from it. _You're welcome._

"Poker?" Edgar asked Norman hopefully, pointing to the cards.

"Shower…and then bed," Norman responded, pointing to himself.

Edgar pouted at the table. Norman put the cards away and locked the back door. Cleaning up the milk glasses and popcorn, Norman turned out the light in the kitchen and ignored his brother, who was now sitting in the dark.

Norman walked out to the living room and waited at the bottom of the steps. Less than a minute later, a little brother was close at his side.

* * *

Coming out of the bathroom dripping wet, Norman checked in on his youngest brother. Edgar's bedroom door was open and the light was on. Edgar was lying on his belly across his bed, reading a book. He had changed into sleep pants and one of Sig's old shirts.

"Did you brush your teeth?" Norman asked, a towel wrapped around his waist, but otherwise buck-naked. Although he was not invited, Norman came into the room and posed in front of Edgar's full-length mirror. Admiring his muscles was one of his favorite activites.

Edgar almost laughed at the action. "No, how could I brush my teeth with you hogging up the bathroom?" he asked, adding, "Geez, put a shirt on, Norm."

Norman turned around to face his brother. Making each chest muscle bounce up and down, alternating one side at a time, he asked, "What? Jealous?"

Edgar put his book down and slid off the bed. Rolling his eyes at his brother, he said. "No, that's just gross," as he headed into the bathroom.

Norman waited to hear the sink water start running before going to his own room. Finding a pair of soft, cotton sleep pants and an old shirt, he dried off and changed quickly. Towel-drying his short hair, Norman tossed the towel in the hamper on his way back to Edgar's room.

Edgar was still in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Hearing the toilet flush and the water running again, Norman helped himself to Edgar's bed. He picked up the book Edgar left open and started reading. Norman had read The Outsiders more times than he could count and he was pleased his youngest brother was now reading it. Perhaps they could talk about it someday.

The youngest Hansen returned to his room and found his older brother in the exact same position he had been in when before he went to brush his teeth. "You gonna jump in my grave that quick, too?" Edgar asked, folding his arms in front of him. _Wow, I sounded a little like dad there._

"Sig asleep?" Norman asked, ignoring the question and not looking up from the book.

Edgar leaned back and looked down the hallway. Sig's door was closed.

"I guess so. Door's closed and the lights are out. Why?" Edgar asked.

"Close the door," Norman said quietly, still not looking up.

Edgar did as he was told, wondering what was going on. Climbing back onto the bed and over his brother, Edgar sat on the bed and leaned against the wall. His legs were stretched over his brother's lower back like a foot rest.

Closing the book and letting it drop to the floor, Norman folded his arms in front of him and rested his cheek on his forearm. Looking at Edgar sitting against the wall, Norman spoke softly but clearly, "Don't ever bring up Sara again. Around Sig, I mean. Just don't mention her anymore, ok?"

Edgar looked horrified, like he had just made a giant mistake and unintentionally hurt his oldest brother. Stuttering, he said, "I..I…didn't mean anything, Norm."

"Oh, I know that…and so does he," Norman said quietly, saddened by the hurt look on his brother's face. Still, there were things this kid didn't know about. _Shit, there are things I wish I didn't know about. Like that straight razor I found under Sig's bed the night after she left him. I knew what it was there for and I confronted him about it. We almost beat the shit out of each other. And then he broke down crying. And, afterwards, he never talked about her again. But I can't tell you this stuff because you're too young. This burden I carry with me….all alone._

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Edgar whispered, "I just don't know what happened. I really liked her. What happened with them, anyway? No one ever told me."

_How do you explain this to a kid?_ Trying his best, Norman spoke softly, "Well, he loved her, that's for sure. Maybe he still does, God knows why. Maybe she loved him, too. She sure as hell…excuse me, heck…acted like it."

"So why'd they break up then?" Edgar asked.

Norman sighed, playing with the hem of his shelve. "She was never gonna settle for being a fisherman's wife, I guess. She felt like she was…above…something like that. And she broke up with him. After three years, she just told him she wasn't in love with him anymore. He was…devastated," Norman explained, staring hard for a reaction from his youngest brother. He didn't have to wait long.

Edgar's eyes filled up with tears almost immediately. "Why? Why did she hurt him like that…if she loved him," he whispered, looking at his bedroom door like he could see through it and into his oldest brother's room.

"It's a hard life, Edgar. Not many girls choose to have husbands that are gone all the time, leaving them home alone to take care of everything," Norman said quietly.

"Mom did," Edgar said in a whisper, controlling the tears and pushing them back down.

"Yes, she did, didn't she?" Norman asked, "Must have meant that she really loved dad to do that. And us too."

"Is that why you're staying home and going to college? For Amanda?" Edgar asked, brushing off a tear from his cheek.

"Part of it," Norman smiled. Wiggling his back to make Edgar's legs shake, Norman indicated, in his own way, that Edgar also played a part in his decision to stay home after graduation.

Edgar got the message and smiled. "Don't stay for me, Norman," he said, cocking his head to the side. "I can take care of myself."

_Yeah, right. Nice try, kid_. Not wanting his younger brother to feel guilty, Norman shared the truth, "The bottom line is I don't want that life. For me or my family. So, there are lots of reasons for me to stay. I thought about it a lot and I know I'm making the right decision, for my current family and for my future family. That's the God's honest truth."

Edgar nodded his head, relieved in part because Norman's decision wasn't just for his sake. "I won't mention her again…Sara, I mean," Edgar said quietly.

"Good…And I AM really sorry, Edgar, about what you saw tonight," Norman said, burying his face in his crossed arms.

Edgar just shrugged. "I've seen your naked butt before, Norman," Edgar explained, pushing his brother slightly with his feet. Norman looked up and smiled. With a dreamy look, Edgar added, "But her long legs, well, that was a sight for…."

Jumping up, Norman grabbed Edgar by both legs and dragged him off the bed. Edgar had nothing to hold onto so he went sliding to the floor, feet first. Norman picked him up over his shoulder and left him dangling there, feet and hands swinging wildly.

"My girlfriend's legs are none of your business, little brother. You just forget you ever saw anything," Norman said flatly, showing no emotion. Norman was extremely tempted to give one firm, hard swat to the backside dangling over his shoulder but he stopped that thought before it even finished in his head. _One, I think I'm mad, Two, not my place, Three, kid doesn't know what he's saying. Four, NOT MY PLACE._

Edgar really couldn't tell if Norman was joking around or being serious. He knew Norman would never really hurt him so he guessed Norm was being funny. "Well," Edgar said, trying to lift himself off his brother's shoulder, "She does really have nice legs."

Norman dropped his brother back down to the mattress, letting Edgar sit on the edge. Kneeling on the floor, Norman stared at his brother with serious blue eyes. "Don't ever be disrespectful like that again. It's not gentlemanly. And you WILL grow up to be a gentleman, Edgar. Hear?" Norman said softly, finally honing in on Sig's tone of authority with success. It came out so naturally, Norman was even shocked by it.

Edgar's eye grew wide at the scolding. "But you and Sig talk about girls. I've heard you guys talking about things when you thought I wasn't listening," Edgar said, trying to defend himself and keep from crying. _Why can't I be one of the guys?_

Norman sighed and shook his head, "Here's the rule on that, little brother. No guy, brother or otherwise, should ever talk about another guy's girl like that. Other girls or past girlfriends are ok but not current girlfriends or wives…or moms. That's just a line you don't cross. Does that make sense?"

Edgar nodded his head slowly, "Yes, sir."

"OH NO, do NOT start that with me…no freaking way, Edgar," Norman said, running his hand over his brother's cheek. "I don't ever want to hear THAT come out of your mouth when you're referring to me."

"Sorry," Edgar whispered, his hands shaking slightly, "You sounded just like Sig for a minute."

"Well, I am related to him," Norman said with a grin. Seeing the kid was getting upset, Norman sat on the bed and put his arm around his brother's shoulder. "Ok, I think we've had enough tonight, don't you?"

Edgar wiggled away from his brother's touch. Tossing himself down on the bed, he curled into a tight ball, facing the wall of his room. Lifting his head, he grabbed blindly for his pillow and settled himself down on the softness. "You mad at me?" he whispered.

Norman could tell the kid was crying. Getting up to shut off the light, he heard his younger brother sniffle, probably thinking that Norman was getting up to leave. The light extinguished, Edgar felt his brother's large frame taking up most of the bed. A large arm reached around his side and pulled him close.

Edgar gave into the tears that had been building all night. Between the embarrassment of Amanda's house, the heavy discussions in the kitchen, memories of the Shack and Norman's obvious displeasure about Sara, Amanda and being called 'sir," Edgar just finally broke. Mostly he was sad about how hurt his oldest brother had been when Sara left. _I never even realized it back then. He must have hid it really well and suffered alone in silence. I can't stand the thought of him suffering alone._

Norman let the kid cry for a time, just holding him close to his chest, Edgar's back to him. The kid was trembling and Norman wisely sensed that there was a lot more going on in Edgar's mind than just the mild scolding he'd given him. After a while, he whispered, "I'm not mad, Edgar. So please stop crying."

"Sig," was all Edgar could mumble through the tears.

"Sig's fine. He got over it. Well, mostly."

Edgar sniffled softly, "Was he all alone? When he was hurting?"

"No…he wasn't alone," Norman tightened his arm around his brother and stroked the tears off his cheeks. Lightening flashed and lit up the dark room.

"You?"

"Of course."

"You always do everything right."

Norman gave a hearty laugh. "You've got to be kidding. Have you looked at the refrigerator door lately, kid?" he asked in the darkness.

"I feel like everything I do is wrong," Edgar said between soft sobs.

"Tell me. What did you do wrong?" Norman asked softly, "Start from the beginning."

"Amanda's house."

"My fault, not yours…next."

"Talking about Sara."

"You had no idea…next."

"Sex talk."

"Bound to happen one way or the other…next."

"Sig blames himself for me hanging out at the Shack back when I was being bad. He blames himself for what happened down there," Edgar said brokenly, his tears coming in soft waves.

Norman sighed, "We both do. And we have made some major changes in this house to see that it never happens again. And, I for one, like the changes. I like hugging you. I like telling you I love you. I've wanted to do these things all my life but never felt like it was ok. Now, I don't care if it's 'less manly' of me or not. As a matter of fact, I don't give a shit, excuse the language…so…something really good came out of all that bad…move on…next."

Edgar whispered, "I was disrespectful to you and your girlfriend. I'm sorry, Norman. I didn't mean it to come out like that."

"You didn't know the cardinal rule of 'guy talk'. Now you do….next."

Edgar hesitated. Finally, he whispered, "I called you something you didn't like. But I do respect you, just as much as Sig."

"Thank you. It means something to me, really, it does. But I'm just not ok with that, with being called that. I don't want that kind of relationship between you and me. I'm just your older brother and I guess that should come with some kind of respect but not to that level. Sig should have that kind of respect because he's in charge. He's the one that makes the big decisions, pays the bills (don't you dare told him I told you that) and has to do the punishing when needed. So, 'sir' seems fitting for him, at times, anyway," Norman finished his little speech by interlacing his hand with his brother's. "I'm not mad,Edgar. Sorry if I was a little harsh with you. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I'm just trying to do right by you."

"You are, Norman," Edgar answered. "Hey, thanks for taking me with you tonight. I did have fun, even if we didn't go to the movies." Edgar's tears started to abate and his breathing became calm and even.

"You like Sally?" Norman asked quietly.

"She's so quiet."

"Then she's perfect for you…cause you never shut up," Norman said with a squeeze, "Come on, kid. I'm tired."

"So go to sleep."

"You have to let go of my hand."

"Why?"

"So I can leave."

"If I told you that I wanted you to stay, would you think I was being a baby?"

"Because of the storm?"

"Whatever excuse you want to come up with is fine with me. I could always say I had a nightmare."

"What's the real reason?"

"Norman, can you promise me something?"

"I'll try. What am I promising?"

"Promise me that if Sig ever tries to do something stupid, you'll stop him."

_I already did so that's easy enough_. "Yes, promise. Why?" Norman asked with suspicion in his voice. Sig wasn't exactly known for doing stupid things. _Except for whatever he planned to do with that razor last fall. _

"No reason. Just…look out for him."

"You don't have to ask me to do that, Edgar. I always do…for the both of you."

"Then stay…you'll be looking out for me."

Norman detached his hand from his brothers but stayed, rubbing his brother's shoulder gently till the kid fell asleep. _We can't keep doing this. Dad would never tolerate this kind of love and affection between his sons. He'd flip his lid if he found out we slept next to each other or held each other when we cry. Hell, he'd flip if he knew how much we seem to cry all the time. When he comes home, we'll have to go back to being stoic and unloving, pretending like we don't care. And I'm scared this kid is gonna fall apart when that happens. Shit, I may even fall apart. _

Norman rolled over to the other side of the bed, grasping the pillow for comfort and trying not to think about what was going to happen when the summer came to a close.


	27. A Stroke of Luck

One hour after falling asleep, Norman woke up in excruciating pain. Rolling onto his back and rubbing his stomach, he initially assumed he overextended his stomach muscles while working out in the basement. For two hours, he tried to ignore the pain and go back to sleep. Drifting between consciousness and a painful, restless sleep, he recognized the pain in his belly was rapidly getting worse.

In an effort to not wake his brother, Norman slipped quietly out of Edgar's room. Norman could only stand hunched over and tried to pace in the hallway. _Maybe I just need to walk this off_. After two trips up and down the hallway, he almost collapsed from the blinding pain.

Norman ran to the bathroom and flipped on the light, leaving the door ajar. Barely making it, he knelt in front of the toilet and vomited the contents of his stomach. Feeling overly hot, he tried to remove his t-shirt, only to groan in pain from the acute and intense shooting pain coming from the lower right side of his abdomen.

Something was wrong, very wrong. This pain was like nothing he ever felt before. Sure, he had the stomach flu and pulled muscles in the past but never such intense agony in one centralized location. He tried to rub his stomach but winced, the area was tender even to the touch.

Trying to stand, Norman was hit with another wave of nausea and he vomited again, this time all over the bathroom floor. _Oh God, I'm too sick to clean this up. Sig's gonna kill me. Better try before Edgar sees this._ Attempting to reach for the bucket by the tub, Norman lost consciousness and passed out, slamming his head into the toilet on the way down.

* * *

Edgar was in a deep sleep, dreaming of his mother. She seemed so real, her beautiful long blonde hair floating around her, and he could almost smell her perfume. Sitting on the edge of his bed, mom stroked his cheek and whispered softly words that Edgar could not make out. She was persistent, saying the same words over and over. Edgar wanted to know what she was saying but it didn't matter. She was there, with him, and he felt totally at peace. _Mommy, I miss you. Why did you have to leave? I love you. Stay with me._

Mom kept talking, like she was desperately trying to tell him something but was too far away to get the message to him. _But she's right next to me. Why can't I hear her?_ Her hand on his cheek was soft and gentle and she stroked his face like he was still a little boy. The touch of her hand against his cheek was entirely tangible and Edgar reached out to grasp her hand. _I just want to touch you one last time._

Touching his own face in his sleep, Edgar awoke and opened his eyes. It took a few minutes for Edgar to realize it was only a dream and his heart sank. _Come back. I know you were here. I couldn't have just been a dream. But you're gone, so it must have been._ Yet, Edgar could still feel the touch against his skin, like someone left their warmth behind, and the air in the room held the very faint smell of a familiar perfume.

_She was here. I know it. She came to see us. _

Wanting to share this 'encounter' with his brother, Edgar rolled over to his other side and found the other half of the bed empty. Norman was gone. _Maybe he went back to his room. _

Sincere in his belief, Edgar was ready to wake up the entire house and share his news. He'd risk the wrath of his brothers for waking them up in the middle of the night, as well as the probable disbelieve and dismissal of his story. All that did not matter. He was solely convinced his mother came to visit them and no pats on the head or cups of ice water were going to appease him or make him think otherwise.

Scrambling off the bed, Edgar headed out into the hallway. He almost turned to walk down the hallway when he noticed someone left the bathroom light on and door partially open.

Gingerly, Edgar gently opened the bathroom door in an effort to turn off the light. The sight of his brother on the bathroom floor threw Edgar from the most wonderful dream he ever had to a living nightmare.

* * *

"SIG!" Edgar screamed, frantically shaking his oldest brother as he lay sleeping. 'Wake up! SIG!"

Sig was half out of it, trying to push his littlest brother away from him. "Go back to bed, Edgar," he answered in a sleepy voice.

Edgar reached over and turned on the light in Sig's room.

Sig groaned and tried to hide under his blankets.

The kid was relentless. "SIG! God damn it, WAKE UP!" Edgar screamed, ripping the covers off his brother's bed.

Sig was about to admonish his brother for this rude awaking but something about Edgar using such harsh language stirred him into opening his eyes.

Seeing the panic and horror in his brother's face, Sig was completely awake in a second. "What's wrong?" he asked quickly, sitting up against his headboard.

"It's Norman. He's sick," Edgar answered, jumping off the bed and grabbing his brother by the hand. Edgar tried pulling Sig out of bed but the effort was fruitless and he landed on the floor

Sig ran his head through his hair. "Come on, kid. Norman's a tough guy. He can handle a little cough and sniffle on his own," Sig said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

Edgar stood up and shook his head violently, "No, Sig. It's not like that. He's on the bathroom floor and he won't wake up. I think he had a stroke, Sig." Edgar was on the verge of hysteria and Sig didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

"Oh, Edgar," Sig said softly, reaching up and taking his youngest brother's hand, "Did you have a bad dream about mom?"

_I had dream about mom but I think it was a sign. _Edgar pulled on Sig's hand again, "No, Sig, PLEASE – Get up! There's blood on the bathroom floor and Norman won't get up."

That got Sig up in a hurry. Running down the hallway, Sig could see Norman's feet at the edge of the bathroom tile. Stopping in the doorway, Sig's heart skipped a beat and he almost panicked. Norman was lying in a heap, his prone body on its side and pool of vomit and blood near his head. Immediately thinking the situation was not as bad as it appeared, Sig became angry. _If you got in the liquor cabinet again, so help me God, there will be no choice this time as to who will be doling out the consequences. _

At the sudden stop, Edgar almost crashed into his oldest brother. Leaning past Sig, he kept asking, "Is it a stroke? Did Norman have a stroke?" Edgar was furiously rubbing at his cheek and shaking in the doorway.

Sig had to ignore his youngest brother's desperate questions because he honestly didn't know himself what was going on. _Please just be drunk_. Sig went into the bathroom and crouched over his brother's body.

"Norman, God damn it," Sig said as he knelt over his brother. No response. No smell of whiskey. A large welt was visible over Norman's right eye, a small trickle of blood slowly seeping from the wound.

Sig leaned over, touching his brother's shoulder gently and pulled his hand back like it had been burned. Norman's skin was hot to the touch.

"Oh my God," Sig whispered, acceptance sinking in that this was not a drinking binge gone wrong. Sig gently tried to roll Norman onto his back but Norman groaned loudly, weakly resisting.

Sig was just grateful his brother was responding, regardless of the noise or actions. "Hey, bro," Sig said, leaning over and speaking in Norman's ear, "What happened?"

As he slipped back into consciousness, Norman was overwhelmed with the intense pain coming from his stomach and he clenched his fists. "Sig?" he called out through the pain.

"Yeah, bro," Sig said, recognizing the hurt in his brother's voice, "What's wrong?"

"My stomach," Norman coughed and whimpered in pain, trying to point to the hurt.

"Here?" Sig asked as he touched Norman's right side.

Norman recoiled and screamed in agony from the touch, passing out again from the pain.

"Don't touch him!" Edgar yelled from behind, standing in the hallway and scratching at his face, causing a small gash to form on his right cheek. _Please don't hurt him. I've never heard him scream like that. What's wrong? Is this how mommy died? _

Closing his eyes for just a second, Sig prayed this was all a bad dream and he'd just wake up. _I'll make breakfast for everyone and we'll go grocery shopping. I'll recommend a solid deodorant to my youngest brother so he doesn't waste the aerosol can in two uses. We'll visit mom's grave and then we'll work around the house. We can plan our trip to the lake and talk about all the good times we had there. _

_Because this, well, this can't be happening. I'm too young to handle this. I have one brother possibly dying on the bathroom floor from God knows what and another brother about to lose his mind in the hallway. _

_Deal with the easiest thing first!_

Sig turned from the bathroom and found his youngest brother sitting on the floor of the hallway, leaning back against the railing. Edgar was rocking back and forth, a deep scratch in his cheek and a tiny bit of blood coming from it. His eyes were screwed shut, trying to block out the nightmare.

"It's a stroke," Edgar kept repeating in a far off voice.

Two steps out of the bathroom, Sig leaned over and pulled his brother roughly into a standing position.

"EDGAR!" Sig said, giving his brother a hard shake. Edgar refused to open his eyes. Shaking him again, Sig said, "Open your eyes and look at me."

Edgar's knees were starting to give and his brother's hands around his upper arms were the only thing keeping him standing.

_This kid is about to faint_. "EDGAR, I need you," Sig said desperately. _I need you because I can't do this alone and I'm scared. Please, kid. Stay with me. _"I need you."

_I need you. No one had ever said those words to me before. __**My family needs me**__._ Edgar opened his eyes, staring clearly into his brother's face.

Sig sighed with relief. "You with me, kid?" he asked quietly, managing a small smile and nod.

"Yes. Are we going to the hospital?" Edgar asked, nodding back.

"It looks like it…and I need your help. Can you do that?" Sig asked quickly.

Edgar nodded, trying to look past Sig and into the bathroom.

"No, just look at me, Edgar. Only me," Sig said, giving Edgar a slight shake and blocking his view. _Don't look at the blood on the floor. Don't look at our brother. Just me._

Edgar refocused his eyes onto the blue eyes right in front of him, "Yes, sir."

Sig gave the kid a giant smile, "Ok, good. Now…listen carefully. Are you listening?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go into Norman's room. Look for his wallet. It's probably on his dresser or in the back pocket of his jeans. When you find it, take it and go downstairs. Open up the garage door. Get my keys from the hook by the back door and start my car," Sig explained firmly in a gentle tone. _Shit, does the kid know how to start a car?_ Sig hesitated, "Do you know how to start a car?" he asked quickly.

Edgar nodded his reply, forgoing the 'really?' look perfected by all teenagers.

Sig smiled again, realizing that was a pretty dumb question. "Ok, then come back up here so you can help me get Norman down the steps. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar said, "I'm going with you, though, right?"

Sig wasn't in a position to argue. He needed Edgar's help and he needed it fast. But Sig had no intentions of taking his youngest brother with him.

"Just go, kid….quickly!"

Edgar took off, running into Norman's room.

Sig turned back to the bathroom. _How the hell am I gonna do this?_ Norman was still unresponsive and Sig wondered if he should just call the ambulance. _We can't afford it. And I'll get him there in half the time it would take the ambulance to get here. _

Running back to his room, Sig changed into his jeans and t-shirt, grabbing his own wallet off the dresser and shoving into his back pocket. Heading back to the bathroom, Sig tried to lift his brother into a standing position.

The movement caused Norman to again rejoin the world and he hollered out in pain. Sig supported him against the wall, trying to hold him up. Norman wanted to lie back down. It was a battle of wills between the two of them, just like always.

"Norman, I need you to help me. I know you're in pain but we have to get you to the hospital," Sig said softly, trying to get his brother to work with him.

Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to say. "Fuck, NO!" Norman said, finally opening his eyes. Wincing from the pain, Norman tried to argue. "No fucking way are you taking me…" he tried to fight but the pain was too much and he doubled over, leaning against his big brother for support.

Trying a different tactic, altogether appropriate for the pain he was in, Norman started to cry. "Please, Sig…don't."

"And what's my alternative, tough guy?" Sig asked, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, "You want me to just let you die on the bathroom floor?" Sig could feel the fever coming from his brother's body through his damp t-shirt and he glanced down at the pool of blood.

Norman leaned against his brother and whimpered. "They'll put…me in one of those…tiny rooms," he said between hitches of labored breathing. The pain in his right side felt like a thousand daggers stabbing him and twisting in place. _I think may pass out again. I like that. No more pain. _

Sig reached around and supported his brother under his arm. "Of all the things, Norman…" he whispered to himself.

"I won't let them put you in a tiny room, I promise," Sig said reassuringly, "Now, please, just try to walk with me."

Assessing the situation, Norman figured he'd at least walk out into the hallway and lie down on the carpet, so he complied with his brother's request. _The carpet is much softer than tile. Sounds heavenly._

Sig was just happy Norman was walking.

As they got out of the bathroom, Sig heard the engine of the Trans Am start and the garage door open. Norman tried to lie down but Sig held onto him, holding him up as they slid down the hallway wall.

Norman grumbled, "Just let me lay down here for a minute."

Sig had to think fast. "Norman, the kid's coming back up here any second. We can't let him get upset. You have to keep moving."

"Damn it, Sig. You woke him up? I outta kick your…" Norman leaned against his brother and winced from the pain.

"Oh, you're in no condition to make threats, little brother," Sig teased, trying to keep Norman awake and moving, making him focus on anything other than the pain and the upcoming trip to the hospital. "Kid's coming back in the house. Gotta do as I say, Norman. You promised you'd listen to me this summer, for Edgar's sake. Now, you have to obey me and quit the disrespect." _Get angry Norman, come on. Let that motive you. _

As Edgar turned the corner to the stairs, Norman hissed in Sig's ear, "I hate you." Of course, he didn't mean it but Sig had him backed into a corner. He couldn't disrespect his brother in front of Edgar. _Lead by example. Damn it, hate that promise. It's the worse one. Caused the end of the drinking and partying. Now this shit. _

Sig smiled, "Oh, you don't mean that, tough guy. I'm the best big brother you got, remember? You can thank me later."

Norman managed to shoot Sig a look of disgust, "Unlikely." Sig only noticed the trickle of blood making its way down Norman's cheek. _Our blood._

Edgar came bounding up the steps, two at a time. Seeing both his older brothers in the hallway trying to stand up, Edgar leaned under Norman and tried to lift him up on the other side.

Norman almost laughed but the pain was too great. He allowed his younger brother to 'hold' him as he left Sig to support most of the heavy burden. Putting his arm around Edgar's shoulders, Norman whispered, "Where ya been, kid? Coming home from a hot date? Did Sig let you borrow the car again?" The humor was lost because of the intense pain clearly evident in Norman's broken voice.

Edgar looked over at Sig, who rolled his eyes and the three of them managed to get Norman down the steps.

At the bottom of the steps, Norman realized they were headed for the garage. "Seriously, I'm fine. Just let me lay down on the sofa awhile." _Please don't take me to the hospital. I'll be trapped in there. I won't be able to get out_. "No hospital."

Sig looked over at his younger brother. The pain and fever begun to redden his eyes and Norman's face was almost pure white, like a ghost. _I'm not losing you. Not ever. _

Ignoring the pleas, Sig continued Norman on into the kitchen and through the garage door.

Edgar had done as he was told. The car was running with both driver and passenger side doors open. Norman's wallet was placed on the dashboard of the car and the garage door was open.

"Good job, little brother," Sig said, as he managed to gently place Norman in the passenger side of the vehicle.

The fact that Norman said absolutely nothing about being in Sig's car was all the sign Sig needed that Norman was close to passing out again.

Before shutting the passenger side door, Sig turned to Edgar. "Now, when we go, shut the garage door behind us and make sure all the doors in the house are locked. Just go back to bed and I'll call you as…"

Edgar responded by running around to the other side of the car and hoping in the back seat, buckling his seat belt. He refused to look at Sig.

Sig leaned into the car over Norman from the front. "EDGAR, I don't have time to argue with you. You're not coming with us. I have to drive fast and I don't want you in the car when I'm doing that. So, please get out of the car!"

Edgar gave his brother a hard stare, and then looked away, folding his arms over his chest. He did not flinch a muscle or make a move to exit the vehicle.

Norman grumbled, "Oh, I have to obey but the kid gets to do whatever he pleases. How is that fair?" Norman winced painfully, letting out a cry.

Sig gave up. Edgar would never leave. Norman would die, in the Trans Am of all places, and his ghost would haunt Sig forever for that. Running to the other side of the car, Sig hopped in and pulled the car out of the garage.

Once the car was out of the house, Sig stopped, got out and closed the garage door. He would have liked to ask Edgar to do it but the kid was too damn smart for that trick. Sig would have pulled off and left him at home.

Sig was planning on breaking multiple moving violations, speed limits and completely disregard street signs. The last thing he needed was his littlest brother witnessing all of that. Now, Sig would have to careful, having both of his brothers in the car, and speeding was out of the question.

_Well, maybe just a little speeding. _

Sig got back in the car and took off.

* * *

The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever. In reality, the 15 minute drive took ten. Sig floored the car most of the way, trying to stay safe but pushing the engine as hard as he could. He was careful and did not blow a single stop sign. The rain had stopped and the roads were starting to dry out.

Norman was whimpering quietly most of the time, clutching the handle of the car door, his eyes closed shut.

Sig reached over the center console and grabbed Norman's left hand. "Stay with me, bro," Sig whispered over the roar of the V8 engine. Norman's hand was cold and it sent a chill down Sig's spine.

Norman squeezed Sig's hand back weakly, but continued to hold onto it the entire ride.

Edgar saw this exchange from the backseat and was suddenly very afraid again. He'd never seen his two older brothers show each other that kind of affection or comfort and he realized Norman's situation was critical.

Getting to Seattle General Hospital in record time, Sig pulled into the front of the emergency room. Parking the car, he got out, Edgar right behind him. Both brothers went to the other side of the car and tried gently to get Norman to move from the front seat. Edgar reached over Norman and grabbed his wallet off the dashboard.

Seeing the red neon light that read 'Emergency,' Norman knew he now had no choice but to get out of the car and let his brothers lead him into the ER. The emergency room was crowded, being a Saturday night and several police and potential drunk drivers littered the chairs in the large room.

Sig's fear of having to grab some doctor and choke the life out of him to get some attention was unwarranted. Norman collapsed a few steps past the hospital's sliding glass doors. Suddenly, orderlies and nurses were surrounding the middle brother, whisking him away in a wheelchair.

Edgar and Sig were left standing in the doorway, watching as their brother was carted off by people wearing white. A kind-hearted older nurse saw the two teenagers in the doorway, looking lost, confused and frightened. She approached the brothers, paperwork in hand and ushered them both into a small room off the main area.

"Hello, sweethearts," the nurse said, pointing and indicating for them to take a seat on the small sofa, "My name is Marissa. Who was the young man you brought in?"

"My brother, ma'am," Sig answered, grateful to hear the voice of an adult. The nurse looked kind, deep wrinkles in her face but a sparkle in her hazel eyes.

The nurse smiled, "What's your brother's name, honey?"

"Norman," Sig said quietly, "Norman Scott Hansen." _My brother._

Edgar handed over Norman's wallet to Sig. Sig stared at it for a minute, then opened the wallet and took out Norman's driver's license. He handed over the ID to the nurse, who took it and started making notes in her file.

It was hard for Sig not to notice the four pictures inside the wallet: a picture of Amanda, Sig's cap and gown graduation picture, a picture of the Norman, Sig and Edgar at Edgar's first motor bike tournament (Edgar holding the first place trophy proudly, his brothers smiling away) and one of mom during last Christmas, right before she died. _None of dad. _Sig didn't know why that missing family member's absence struck him at such a strange moment but it did.

The nurse began completing the paperwork in front of her, all the while maintaining eye contact with Sig. She also gave Edgar a sweet smile out of the corner of her eye. The kid was still wearing his pajamas and looked like he just withstood a hurricane.

"Norman is seventeen, then?" she asked gently, glancing at the license.

"Yes, ma'am," Sig answered. _He's only seventeen. Just a kid, like me._

"Do your parents know he is here?" she asked, making notes on her clipboard.

Edgar shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, like he wanted to lie on the floor. Sig blanched at the question. Swallowing, Sig answered, "Our father is off-shore fishing in Alaska. There's no way to reach him."

Again, the nurse smiled. She had seen many children of fishermen over the years that could not have contact with their fathers when they needed them the most. "And is your mom on her way to the hospital?" she asked.

The nurse knew the answer from the sudden sad look in both blue and green sets of eyes and she was sorry she asked.

Sig said softly, "Our mother died six months ago. She had a stroke. I don't know if you need to know that but…" Sig was unable to finish the thought. _Maybe Edgar was right. Maybe Norman is having some kind of stroke. _

"How old are you, Mr. Hansen?" the nurse asked Sig.

_Mr. Hansen. Is that me? _"Eighteen."

"So, you are Norman's legal guardian? You can sign authorization for medical treatment for him if he can't sign for himself?" the nurse said, more of a statement than a question.

Sig shrugged. He'd never thought of that before. The weight of responsibility pressed heavy on his shoulders and he prayed he wouldn't have to make that kind of decision.

"I guess so," he answered, running his hand through his blond hair.

The nurse made more notes on her papers, pulling out forms from a stacked tray. Sig took a minute to look over at his youngest brother. Edgar still looked like a dear in headlights, a small but deep scratch on his right cheek.

"Do you know what happened to your brother?" Marissa asked kindly, gaining back Sig's attention.

Sig had a far off gaze but he answered all he knew. "He was fine. All day, no complaints. We…well, my youngest brother here…woke up and found him on the bathroom floor. He was in a lot of pain and said the pain was here (Sig pointed to his right, lower abdomen). He threw up blood and kept passing out. I think he has a fever."

"Ok, love," the nurse said, standing quickly, "You wait here. I'll be right back."

"Is there a bathroom we could use?" Sig asked before she hurried away.

"Sure, honey," she answered, "Down the end of the hallway. Just come right back here." The nurse suddenly seemed to be in a hurry, almost running out of the room and leaving both brothers behind. Sig felt the panic coming off the nurse, even if she was trying to hide it. _I'm panicking, too. _

Wordlessly, Sig grabbed Edgar hand and took him out of the room. Heading down the hallway, Sig ushered Edgar into a small men's room off the main wing of the ER.

Pausing a minute to splash water on his face, Sig staring at himself in the mirror. _What are we doing here? What the hell just happened?_ Collecting himself, Sig reached for a paper towel and wet it under the sink.

Turning back towards his youngest brother, Sig gently put his hand under Edgar's chin and wiped away the blood on his face. "You scratched your face, kid. Let me just get the blood off."

Edgar winced slightly, still maintaining full eye contact with his brother.

"I know. I'm sorry. This stings a little," Sig whispered, gently wiping his brother's cheek and staring into the frightened green eyes.

It was the first time Edgar even realized he had done that to himself. Glancing in the mirror as Sig stroked his face, Edgar was shocked at the scratch and wondered how it got there._ I guess I was really upset. _It didn't hurt and the blood was minor. Yet, Edgar sensed Sig needed to feel like he was taking care of someone, like he had some control over the situation. _Ok, I can do that. You can take care of me if you need too because I'm freaked out beyond belief right now._

"I'm scared, Sig," Edgar whispered the truth, his green eyes wide with fear. The thought of losing another family member was overwhelming and Edgar's eyes filled with tears.

Tossing the bloody towel into the trash, Sig pulled his brother into an embrace. "Me, too, kid. Me, too." He whispered in Edgar's ear, stroking the soft, shaggy head at his chest, holding back his own tears. _We've lost so much already. Please, God, please let my brother be ok. Hail Mary, Full of Grace…_

Edgar listened to Sig's rapid heartbeat for a long time. Finally, he asked quietly, "You mad I came?" _Maybe I'm just a burden to him right now. I should have stayed home._

"No, I'm glad you're here. I don't think I can do this on my own," Sig confessed quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around his brother. _It's an unfair thing to ask of a 13 year old kid but I do need him. _

Edgar wrapped his arms around Sig's waist and took comfort in the fact that they were together and that Norman was in good hands.

After a few minutes, Sig gave Edgar a tight squeeze and then pulled back. He brushed a tear off his brother's cheek, careful of the scratch and then ruffled Edgar's hair. "Come on, let's go back," he said quietly, giving his brother a half-hearted smile.

By the time they got back to the private waiting room, Marissa had returned. She was shuffling papers and turned to watch both brothers take their place on the sofa.

"The doctor will be in in just a few minutes, Mr. Hansen. He'll explain everything to you. Does Norman have medical insurance?" Marissa asked.

Sig sighed slowly, "No, ma'am. Is that…a problem?"

"No, don't worry about that now. We'll take good care of your brother either way," she said with a smile.

_Somebody has to worry about that eventually. Dad's gonna have a fit_._ Doesn't matter. This is where Norman needs to be. I'll deal with the fallout later. I'll take a loan out on my car if I have too. Norman's life is more important to me than anything else right now. _"Is my brother ok?" Sig asked, not even trying to hide the concern in his voice.

"The doctor will explain everything in just a minute," she answered, not looking up from her paperwork. "Does Norman have any medical history we should know about?"

"No, ma'am," Sig said, fully aware that the nurse dodged the earlier question of Norming being ok. Sig added, "He had measles when he was little."

"He's in very good shape. He works out all the time," Edgar answered hopefully, trying to add something positive to the conversation.

Marissa chuckled, "That's good. Will help a lot."

Just then, a young, handsome doctor entered the room and glanced down at Sig and Edgar. He was so young, Sig had to wonder if they went to school together.

Introducing himself as Dr. Hubert, the doctor offered a strong handshake to Sig. Then, he turned and offered a handshake to Edgar. Edgar was a little taken aback but he shook the doctor's hand anyway.

Dr. Hubert knelt down in front of Sig and began to explain the situation. "Mr. Hansen, your brother is experiencing an acute appendicitis. That means his appendix is inflamed and infected and close to bursting. It was a stroke of luck you found him when you did and got him here just in time. Do you know what an appendix is?"

Sig nodded his head, his senior year science class of AP Anatomy and Physiology finally paying off. Edgar shook his head.

Dr. Hubert explained quickly, for Edgar's sake, "The appendix is a part of the stomach that is not needed. For whatever reason, we don't know why, sometimes it gets infected and fills with puss. It seems to happen more in young males but it can really happen to anyone. It's extremely painful and life threatening. Right now, Norman is unconscious and doesn't know what's going on. You need to make a decision."

Edgar let out a small gasp, covering his mouth with his hand. Sig stared blankly at the doctor.

"We need to do emergency surgery to remove the appendix," Dr. Hubert explained, looking directly at Sig.

The gravity of the situation hit Sig hard. _He's asking my permission. He wants me to decide._ "Will my brother be ok?" Sig asked quietly, his hands shaking in front of him.

"Mr. Hansen, there are always risks involved with any surgery but Norman is young and healthy and should make a full recovery. If we do not operate and the appendix bursts, your brother will die," Dr. Hubert said, waiting for an answer.

Sig bowed his head and froze. It was like time was standing still. _But I'm only eighteen. How can you ask me to make a decision like this? This is my brother's life. My best friend. _

Edgar reached over and squeezed Sig's hand. Edgar was giving his blessing. The touch was all Sig needed.

With acceptance in his blue eyes, Sig looked up and nodded to the doctor, "Ok, sir, do whatever needs to be done."

~tbc


	28. A Stroke of Love

**Short, little chapter for those who do NOT like cliffhangers – sorry for the unexpected suspense in the previous chapter. **

**Please kindly review if you are so inclined. If not, please continue enjoying the story in silence. **

* * *

For the next hour, Sig had papers pushed in his face, asking him to fill out, complete and sign...and sign…and sign. He didn't know it was possible to sign his name so many times in one sitting. Sig did what he was told but half the things he was signing he hardly understood. Clearly, though, he was taking full responsibility for his brother's life and accepting the emotional and financial burden that came with such an obligation.

After taking a complete family and medical history, the nurse returned Norman's ID and Sig slipped it back into Norman's wallet. The brothers were moved to a small, post-op waiting room and left on their own.

Sig tried to encourage Edgar to take a nap on the sofa but the youngest Hansen refused, willfully disobeying. Sig just sighed, giving into the willful child like a tired mom at the grocery store agreeing to buy the coveted balloon or lollipop. Edgar wasn't going to sleep till he knew Norman was alright. Sig was in the same frame of mind so he felt he could not demand less of his youngest brother.

Instead of resting, Edgar played blocks on the floor with a little girl, about 6 years old, who was waiting to become a big sister for the first time.

"My mommy's having a baby," she whispered like it was a secret.

Edgar's eye grew wide with exaggerated surprise, "You'll be the big sister. You're lucky. I'm the baby."

"I hope I get a sister," she said, then put her finger on her cheek and looked deep in thought. "A little brother might be nice, too," she added after careful consideration.

"Little brothers are the ABSOLUTE best," Edgar reassured her, "Just be nice to them. No shoving them into boxes and taping the lid shut when no one is looking. They won't like it and you can get into a lot of trouble."

The little girl nodded her agreement enthusiastically. Sig suppressed a laugh, not wanting Edgar to know he was eavesdropping on the private conversation taking place on the carpet. _My brother will make a wonderful father someday. I hope he makes me an uncle three times over. Later…when he's older…that is._

The little girl's father seemed worried and exhausted, pacing the floor of the waiting room. He looked gratefully over towards Edgar and then smiled at Sig. He mouthed a "Thank you" to the oldest brother and Sig nodded his head slightly at the man, feeling a strong sense of pride that THIS tired, scared, thirteen-year-old shaggy-headed kid, currently sitting on the floor with a little girl half his age, was HIS brother. _Leave it to Edgar to think of someone else's wellbeing when so much is going wrong in his own life. The kid puts me to shame. I am so proud of him. He truly is the best. I love him. I couldn't love him more._

Edgar distracted the child by making elaborate structures of buildings, planes and a very impressive crab boat. It was hard to believe such things could be made out of blocks but Edgar's abilities were a natural talent. His creativity knew no bounds.

Edgar now preoccupied, Sig sat and stared out into the darkness of the narrow hospital window. He must have silently said every prayer his mother taught him as a boy, repeating each in both English and Norwegian just for good luck. A tiny knot of guilt kept plaguing him and he tried to push it away. Like many times before, the knot invaded his thoughts._ How could I even think of doing that to myself when Sara left me? I was so depressed. I thought I couldn't live without her. I never once thought about how something like that would affect my family. Now, I've lost my mother and I may lose my brother and the pain is almost too much to bare. I was so selfish and stupid. And the person that saved my life back then is fighting for his own right now. How could I have even thought to cause my family that much pain?_

Sig pushed the guilt away and focused on other things, like getting Edgar home and calling Amanda and Norman's boss at the hardware store. He started making a to-do list in his head to keep his mind occupied.

After an eternity, the brothers were told by haggard Dr. Hubert that the surgery was a complete success and Norman was in recovery. Sig asked immediately if they could see him. The doctor must have pulled some strings, feeling compassion for the young brothers, and arranged for them to be moved into Norman's hospital room. It was well beyond visiting hours but the nurses on the floor quietly accepted the presence of two lost-looking teenagers.

After carefully instructing Sig on what to expect, the nurses lead the brothers into Norman's room.

Sig entered the room quietly, Edgar almost hiding behind him, holding onto his brother's hand. Norman was asleep, hooked up to machines and long, clear tubes coming from hanging bottles down to his muscle-man arms.

Afraid to move, Sig and Edgar stood silently in the doorway and stared at the sight before them. Neither one of them had seen anything like this in real life, only in mom's afternoon TV stories they were forced to watch during summer vacations from school.

Now, not only was this real life, this was THEIR brother.

Taking a deep breath, Sig lead Edgar into the room and over to the overly large lounge chair. Instructing Edgar to sit down with a silent wave of his hand, Sig went and sat on the windowsill. They both just sat and stared, waiting for their brother to wake up.

"Is he…ok?" Edgar whispered.

"Yes, Edgar," Sig whispered from behind him, "He's much better now. See?"

Edgar didn't like what he saw but admitted Norman looked a lot better now than lying unconscious on the bathroom floor. Trusting his oldest brother's statement, Edgar finally gave into the exhaustion he'd been fighting all night. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep thinking _at least we are all together again_.

* * *

Some time later, Norman stirred in his sleep, weakly trying to pull at the IV sticking out of his arm. A gentle hand stopped him.

"Hey, tough guy," Sig said quietly, "Welcome back to the world of the living."

Slowly opening his eyes, Norman saw his older brother sitting on the edge of the bed. Unsure of what the hell was going on, Norman tried to sit up but the dull pain coming from his stomach prevented the motion. A tear slipped down his temple and confusion set in. _Why am I crying? Where the hell am I? Why does Sig look so damn worried?_

Sig brushed off the tear from his brother's face, something he wanted to do in the past but never thought he'd get the chance. "It's ok, Norman," Sig said with a smile, "It's just the anesthesia. The nurse said everyone reacts differently to it and sometimes it can make you cry. Don't be scared, ok?"

"Anesthesia?" Norman asked, his voice crackling and his mouth dry as the desert.

Sig nodded, "Yes, you had an appendectomy."

"A what?"

"An appendectomy. That's the term the doctor used. It means they took out your appendix because it was infected."

"Well, I'd like it back. It's mine. Don't I need it?" Norman asked in a haze.

Sig laughed softly, "As it turns out, yours caused a lot more trouble than it was worth. Don't worry. You won't miss it."

"You don't know that. If I ever become famous, I could sell it for lots of money."

"Norman, no one will want your defective appendix, no matter how famous you become."

Norman groaned softly, memories of last night finally catching up with him. "I'm in the hospital."

"That would be correct."

Norman closed his eyes, rubbing at his chest and biting his lip, "I specifically said 'NO HOSPITAL.'"

"Yeah, well, you say a lot of things that I don't listen too," Sig explained causally.

"How'd I get here?"

"We brought you…" Sig leaned over and whispered, a smile playing on his lips, "…in the Trans, no less."

"I would have rather walked."

"Norman, you could hardly get down the steps. Thank God we had the kid to help get you out of the house," Sig said without a hint of sarcasm.

Norman's eyes flew open. "Edgar! Where's the kid?" Norman asked quickly, almost in a panic.

"SHHH," Sig tipped his head over to the large blue lounge chair by the window of the hospital room. Norman lifted his head enough to see his younger brother, curled up and sound asleep in his pajamas. The kid looked more like a five-year-old than thirteen and Norman almost asked Sig where he hid Edgar's favorite teddy bear this time.

Dropping his head back down on the pillow, Norman admonished his brother, "This is no place for a kid. You should have left him at home, Sig."

"Believe me, I tried," Sig tossed up his hands, "You know how he gets sometimes."

Norman gave his older brother a hard stare, "Yeah, just like you – pig-headed, stubborn Norwegian."

Sig cocked an eyebrow, "No, that's you. Not me."

Staring hard into Sig's face, Norman realized Sig looked like crap. Tiny, blond whiskers littered his cheeks and chin. Dark circles underscored blood-shot eyes and the normally combed-to-perfection blond locks were knotted and greasy.

"You look like shit," Norman said, feeling overly tired. Not wanting to see his brother that way, he closed his eyes.

"You don't look so great yourself, Norm. But, I will admit you look a lot better now than you did last night," Sig grumbled back. A minute of silence past before Sig added quietly, "You really scared the shit out of me. Don't do that again."

"Right back at ya," Norman mumbled his statement a clear reference to Sig's intentions when Sara left him.

Sig blatantly ignored the comment. "Can't lose my best friend, Norman. Then where would I be?" Sig's soft voice was laced with concern, fear and hesitation. Norman didn't like the sound of it. It was an indication of just how sick he had been.

A few tears slid down Norman's cheeks, "Go away. I'm tired." The effects of the surgery were still evident.

Ignoring the request, Sig brushed off the tears and gently stroke his brother's cheek. _I can't believe he's letting me do this. _"I know. Go back to sleep."

The soft stroke on his cheek made Norman feel like a little kid. A kid that was very loved and wanted.

His defenses lowered, Norman whispered, "Sig…don't leave."

The request almost broke Sig's heart. His brother would have never said something like that in the past. _But, things are different now_.

"I won't."

"I wanna go home," Norman whined softly as he drifted off.

"Tomorrow."

Norman protested weakly, "No…now."

"Tomorrow, tough guy."

Giving up, Norman gave into the gentle touch, "I want mom."

"She'd make you stay too."

"I miss her, Sig," Norman said before falling asleep. He pretended it was his mother stroking his cheek instead of his older brother. _Maybe it's a little of both._

"I know…me too."

_I'm here. I miss you, too…my brave sons. _

~tbc


	29. The Model Patient

**Longer chapter – sorry, this one got away from me.**

**Warnings: some minor talk of discipline, some heavy issues discussed, a few tears and some laughs – the usual, I guess.**

**Apologies for the typos – will catch and fix later.**

**Please review if so inclined. I try to personally thank and respond to everyone. Guests, my hearty thanks always**

* * *

A few hours later, Norman awoke for the second time. This time, he didn't need to ask where he was or what happened. He remembered everything clearly. The smells and sounds of the hospital assaulted his senses and he groaned uncomfortably. His lower belly was sore and tender and the stitches were painfully stretching his skin.

Slowly, Norman shifted himself up to a seated position and tried to ignore the IV sticking out of his arm. The needle sight was sore and he would have liked to rip the damn thing out but he refrained. Another monitor was pinching his finger and there was a cuff on his right arm. The middle brother was secretly pleased that the hospital had to use an extender to get the cuff all the way around his muscular bicep.

Looking around his hospital room, Norman could see the sun rising over the horizon from his window. The window was large and, from the looks of things, he was on one of the upper floors of the hospital. _That will make my escape quite the challenge. Wonder if Sig requested this room._

Surveying his surroundings, Norman's eyes focused on the blue lounge chair facing his bed. The chair still contained the same occupant as before, still dressed in his pajamas. This time, though, Edgar was wide awake, still and silent, like he was afraid to move or make a sound. He reminded Norman of a startled red-tailed deer.

Wide and worried green eyes stared back at Norman's blue ones.

After a moment, Norman managed to give the kid a blazing smile, ignoring his own discomfort and building panic about being trapped in a place he'd rather not be. Pointing at his younger brother, Norman hooked his finger and gestured for the kid to come over.

Edgar stood and hesitantly approached the bed, not wanting to get too close and somehow end up accidentally hurting his brother.

Norman gestured his finger again, this time adding a pat to the edge of the bed, indicating that Norman wanted the kid to sit next to him.

Edgar still hesitated. His older brother looked so fragile, hooked up to all those noisy machines and Edgar was overly cautious. In Edgar's opinion, Norman never looked fragile a day in his life.

Trying to swallow, Norman realized just how dry and scratchy his throat was, like someone stuck a tube down to his gullet. Spotting the pitcher of ice water by the shelf under the TV, Norman figured he could solve two problems at once.

"Edgar," Norman said in a crackly voice, "Can you bring me a glass of water?"

Edgar looked around and Norman pointed to the pitcher. Walking over and filling the little pink plastic cup with ice water, Edgar cautiously approached his older brother.

With cat-like reflexes, Norman took the cup with his right hand and his left he used to grab Edgar's hand and pull him over to the bed.

"Sit," Norman said, firmly holding onto his brother's hand. With Edgar trapped, Norman took a drink of the offered water. It was probably the best thing he'd ever tasted. The water slid down his throat and he crunched a few ice chips before putting the cup on the tray next to his bed.

Edgar had no choice to sit and watch his brother's action. He looked around, expecting a nurse to come in and admonish him for sitting on the bed.

Turning his full attention back to Edgar, Norman brushed a lock of shaggy hair out of the kid's face. "It's ok, kid. You can touch me. You won't hurt me," he said slowly.

Edgar pushed his mouth to the side, not sure if he could believe that statement.

Norman sighed and moved his brother's hand up to his own chest, directly over his heart. Feeling the steady beat that had lolled him to sleep several times this week, Edgar closed his eyes and was able to relax just a little. It was exactly what the kid needed.

"See, I'm still alive," Norman said quietly, referring to his own heartbeat, "Seems like you just can't get rid of me."

Edgar opened watery eyes and Norman pulled him close into his own chest, holding him the best he could since his arms were partially restrained by the tubes and wires.

Edgar listened to his brother's heart beating and said softly, "Norman…" then stopped, unable to vocalize how he really felt.

"I know…I know," Norman whispered, stroking his brother's fine hair, "But it's ok now. I'm gonna be fine. I'll be wrestling you on the floor before we know it."

"I thought…" Edgar said brokenly, "I thought...you'd leave us…like…mom did."

Norman lost any quick retort or comeback hanging on his lips. There was nothing he could say to that. The impact of just how frightening this whole experience must have been to his younger brother was overwhelming to him. No doubt, his older brother must have been in the same boat but was unable to show it, having to be strong for Edgar the entire time.

All that Norman could do was stroke his brother's hair and hold him, comforting him with his own heartbeat and steady breathing. After a while, Norman whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, Edgar. Well, except home…right now, as a matter of fact. Where's Sig, anyway?

Edgar muttered into the hospital gowned being stretched to its limits by Norman's budging muscles, "He went down to the cafeteria looking for coffee."

"Figures he'd leave me for coffee," Norman grumbled.

Edgar was quick to defend his oldest brother, "He hasn't slept at all, Norman, at least that I know of."

Norman grew quiet again. Although he had no control over what happened, Norman started to feel bad for what his brothers had to endure over the past several hours.

Reminding himself that no one voluntarily elects to have their appendix almost explode in their abdominal cavity, Norman pushed the guilt away. Deciding all would be well once he got home, Norman started planning his escape.

"Did Sig leave his car keys?" Norman asked his younger brother, "Maybe you can break me out of here and drive me home. We'll keep it a secret, just between you and me. Sig won't ever have to know. I'll do your chores for the next month if you help me escape, promise."

Edgar pulled back and looked up into his brother's mischievous eyes. Norman's expression was one of utter hopelessness and resigned humor. Norman noted the kid still looked lost and hadn't actually shed a single tear threatening to spill over his bottom eyelashes.

Managing a small smile, Edgar pretended to think about the offer. After careful thought, he said, "Two months?"

"Sold," Norman said with an agreeing nod.

"Don't you think Sig will know something's up when finds his car is missing? Then we'll both get in trouble and I'll get the paddle for sure," Edgar widened his eyes in mock fear.

"No paddle for you, little brother," Norma said reassuringly, "I just haven't worked out the minor details yet. Give me a minute and I'll come up with something,"

Looking closely at his younger brother's face for the first time, Norman put a finger up to the scratch under Edgar's eye. "What's this?" he asked, instantly concerned.

Edgar shyly dipped his injured cheek into his shoulder, trying to hide the small injury and pulled away from his brother.

"Ed…gerr," Norman hesitated, concern interwoven in his voice, "Did I do that?" _Just exactly HOW bad did things get last night?_

"No," Edgar answered quickly, rubbing a little at the scratch.

"Then how'd it get there? Sig ruffin' you up again?" Norman asked, watching his brother rub at the wound and coming to realization that this was a self-inflicted injury. _Oh my God, this kid must be traumatized, having to witness what happened last night after just losing our mother so unexpectedly._

Edgar didn't get a chance to answer. A young, pretty nurse entered the room, carrying a tray. Startled by the noise, Edgar jumped away quickly, like he'd just been caught smoking. He shuffled over to stand and look out the big window and away from his brother.

Norman ignored the nurse for a moment and stared at the back of his brother's head. Edgar's shoulders and back were rigid and his whole body seemed tense, like he was having an internal fight with his emotions. _The kid is NOT ok. He's jumpy and skittish and definitely 'off.'_ Norman was genuinely concerned for his younger brother and made a mental note to speak to Sig about it later.

"Mr. Hansen," the nurse brought the tray over and placed it on the swivel tray next to the bed, "It's nice to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been kicked in the stomach by a bucking bronco, ma'am," Norman said, his eyes moving slowly over the young nurse's legs, "But the sight of you makes me feel better already."

The nurse giggled, waving a hand at the cheesy come-on and placed the tray in front of Norman. Removing the lid, she said, "Breakfast is served. Eat up, you'll need your strength to get better for real."

Looking at the offering, Norman glanced back up the nurse and said flatly, "Ah, ma'am, if you want me to get my strength back, I'm gonna need something more than this." On the tray were a small dish of diced bananas, two pieces of toast and a tiny bowl of plain applesauce. In Norman's opinion, this mean won't satisfy a mouse.

"Sorry, Mr. Hansen," the nurse added, almost happy to gain a little revenge for the earlier pick-up-line, "It's called the BRAT diet and you need to get use to it for a little while."

"The what diet?"

"B.R.A.T. Brat diet."

"Sounds perfect for him," Sig added, suddenly appearing in the doorway and leaning against the doorframe. In his hand was the beloved coffee he had to search three floors to find. He flashed Norman a smile and noted out of the corner of his eye that Edgar was no longer occupying the blue chair.

Edgar jumped at the sound of his oldest brother's voice but did not turn around. He continued staring at the window and felt strangely lost, cold and distant.

The nurse turned to Sig and smiled, "BRAT – Bananas, Rice, Applesauce and Toast. You'll need to know that for when young Mr. Hansen here goes home. We'll give you a list of home-care instructions when your brother's discharged. It will give you information like what he can and cannot eat, as well as aftercare procedures to follow and medication he'll need to take."

"It'll be like taking home a new pet," Sig smiled and entered the room, ignoring Norman's death glare directed solely at him.

"Speaking of home, when will I be seeing the place, ma'am?" Norman asked, resigning himself to the dry toast and a slice of banana.

"Well," the nurse went about checking monitors and the IV bottle, "If you behave yourself, perhaps this evening."

"I'll be good, no complaining about the food or nothing," Norman said with his mouth full of partially chewed dry bread.

"That will make life easier for the both of us. Can I get you anything else for now?" the nurse asked.

"That's a loaded question, ma'am," Norman said with a sly smile, taking another bold glance at the pretty set of pins sticking out from the short, white skirt.

"Behave, Mr. Hansen," the nurse scolded him but with a sly smile herself.

"On second thought, could I have some hot tea? Pleeeaasse?" Norman asked quietly, pursing his lips together and flashing his baby blues like a pro. Sig was impressed Norman could still pull out those classic looks that almost always got him out of the corner long before his full time had been served.

The nurse must have been impressed as well because she agreed to bring up a pot of plain tea as soon as possible. Then she reminded Norman the doctor would be in to check on him shortly and left. Norman's eyes watched her skirt swish from side to side as she walked away.

Sig shook his head slowly at Norman and Norman smirked. _See, I'm very much alive. Now, take me home._

As Norman was crunching on his second piece of toast, he made eye contact with Sig and tilled his head over to Edgar. Edgar was still standing at the window, his back to both of them.

Sig put his hands up. _What?_

"Something is wrong?" Norman mouthed silently, again tilling his head to indicate he was speaking about Edgar behind his back.

A sad look crossed over Sig's face and he stared at the back of Edgar's stiff shoulders. Looking back at Norman, he tried to silently communicate all he wanted to say but couldn't. Sig put his hand over his own heart and clenched his fist, looking desperate.

The desperation on Sig's face made Norman frown and furrow his brow. _Maybe there is a lot more going on with Edgar than I realized. _

Taking a breath, Sig said loudly, "So, in my quest to find coffee, I ended up on the maternity floor." Taking the lounge chair for himself, Sig spread out and casually leaned back, purposely ignoring his youngest brother. Yet, the conversation was obviously intended for Edgar's ears.

Norman took the hint. "Did you get to see the babies?" he asked excitedly.

"Sure did," Sig responded loudly, "And a little girl who was asking for a certain someone. She has someone special she'd like him to meet."

Edgar's ears perked up and curiosity got the best of him. Turning around, he asked Sig, "Was it a boy or a girl?"

Sig smiled over at Norman. "Go see for yourself, kid. Next floor down. She's waiting for you in the hallway with her dad. You'll see them as soon as you get off the elevator."

Edgar took off.

Sig called after him, "Ten minutes, then come RIGHT back here. Any longer and I'm having you paged over the entire hospital."

"Yes, sir," Edgar paused and answered respectfully. Then he left the room.

Waiting a moment to hear the elevator doors open and shut, Norman raised an eyebrow, "What was that all about?"

Sig shrugged and smiled, "You know our brother. He makes friends wherever he goes. It seems he stole the heart of a six year old girl last night who was waiting to become a big sister."

"Was it a boy or girl?"

"A boy. The dad looks exhausted, overwhelmed and about to explode with pride."

Norman slurped up his applesauce, practically licking the bowl clean. He was so hungry and this meal just wasn't cutting it. "Do you think dad was that proud when we were born?" he asked absentmindedly, looking longingly to a now empty plate.

"Well," Sig said slowly, "I'm sure he was when **I** was born. You, on the other hand, I think he wanted to return."

"No, smart ass, that was Edgar," Norman rolled his eyes, "They wanted a girl. We're lucky our parents didn't try to exchange him when they had the chance."

Sig laughed, "Could you imagine if he had been a sister? Jesus, that would have made the sex talk last night about a bazillion times harder than it already was."

Norman did not join in his brother's laughter. Thinking about the events of the previous night and Edgar's unusual behavior this morning, Norman did something he rarely ever did; he turned the conversation serious.

"Sig, something's wrong with him."

"I know. I picked up on that."

Norman shifted his body slowly so that he could have a better look at his brother. A wince of pain flashed over Norman's face. Sig started to rise but Norman shooed him away.

"Sit down, asshole," Norman said as he tried to get comfortable, "You will NOT baby ME."

"Ha," Sig said, leaning back in the chair, "Once I get you home, you have no choice but to let me baby you…so fucking deal with it."

Norman did not like the sound of that. "Fuck off."

"I'll feed you just bananas and toast for a week so watch your mouth," Sig responded with a stern finger pointed in Norman's direction.

"I hate being helpless," Norman grumbled, accepting the embarrassing situation that he'd likely be at his older brother's mercy for the next few days and Sig was going to take this as an opportunity to satisfy his new-found paternal instincts.

Sig gave his brother a sympathetic smile, "You'll make a full recovery in no time, Norman."

"Maybe so, but I'm not so sure about Edgar. Seems like he's pretty broken up," Norman said softly. Thinking for a minute, Norman asked quietly, "Sig, can I tell you something without you getting mad?"

Sig gave his brother a confused look but nodded, "No guarantees, but I'll try not to punch you…in the stomach, at least."

Norman seemed embarrassed but he spoke clearly, "Edgar wanted me to stay with him last night. I didn't want too (_ok, that's a lie - I wanted too but I'm afraid to tell you that_) but I did. There was no real reason for me to sleep next to him. He wasn't hurtin' or scared of the storm. He just wanted me to be near him."

"Norman, why on Earth would I be mad about that?" Sig asked.

Norman dropped his shoulders and bowed his head. "I dunno. Guess cause there was no good reason for me to be sleeping in Edgar's room."

Sig cocked his head to the side and stared at the top of his brother's head. Putting his coffee cup on the windowsill, Sig got up and sat on the edge of the bed. "Hey, look at me. There's something we gotta talk about and it looks like it can't wait any longer."

Norman looked up and gave his brother his direct attention.

"Ok, one, I am NOT dad," Sig started. This was going to be a long speech and Sig didn't have much time to convey what he needed to get across so he just kept going, "Two, you think there was no good reason for you to sleep next to our little brother. Well, let me tell you some damn good fucking reasons."

"First of all," Sig explained, "Edgar may act like he's tough and grown up but deep down, he's still a little kid. A little kid that lost the most important person in his life without warning or explanation. Afterwards, his father ignored him, too caught up in his grief to pay much attention to his youngest son. His older brothers…"

Norman put a hand on his brother's forearm, stopping him, "Don't, Sig. Don't say it. It hurts too much." _We abandoned our little brother. I know it. Just don't say it._

A look past between them and the brothers grew somber.

Feeling pressured, Sig went on, "Edgar's world was turned upside down. Everything he knew, everything he came to rely on in his life was gone. So, he turned to self-destruction and started hanging out with scum and lowlifes. And, to be very honest with you, Norman, I think some very bad things happened to him down at the Shack."

Norman leaned forward, a strange look in his eyes. "What do you mean, bad things?" he asked in a low growl.

Sig ran his hand over his hair, "I'm not sure, but at the very least, they treated him…badly…down there."

Norman took a second to absorb that information. He never thought about it before but now, he wanted to kill someone. He just didn't know who to start with first.

"So," Sig said, seeing his brother mentally plotting revenge (_just like me last night in the kitchen_) and wanting to move the conversation to its intended conclusion, "The kid has been through a whole hell of a lot. He's suffering, Norman. I just didn't realize how much until last night. He was the one that found you, you know…in the bathroom."

"Oh God," Norman whispered, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Norman, I'm telling you, I thought he was going to completely lose it. I mean that. The look on his face was downright scarier than seeing you unconscious. Well, almost anyway. Edgar was absolutely terrified that you were gonna to die."

Norman moved his hand from his mouth, "The scratch on his face…"

"You saw that, huh? Did it to himself. Yeah, that's how upset he was."

"I'm so sorry," Norman whimpered slightly.

Sig gave his brother a wry smile, "For what? Infecting your own appendix? Don't be ridiculous. Just be grateful the kid drank all the tea and chocolate milk before going to bed. Otherwise, who knows what could have happened." Sig took a deep breath of courage and gently ghost the faint black and blue knot over his brother's right eye.

Completely unexpected, Norman tipped his head and grazed his brother's hand for the briefest of seconds. Then he pulled away, still not completely comfortable with that much affection.

"So," Sig pulled his hand back, "by another stroke of bad luck and NO ONE'S FAULT (Sig gave his brother a hard look), the kid had to endure another trauma on top of all the others. Luckily, this one turned out with a happy ending."

"But he's still upset, Sig."

"Yes, and may be for a long time. I don't think these things just go away overnight, Norman. So, if he's clingy or insecure or…whatever…we have to be there for him. No matter what. If he wants us to sleep next to him because he needs the reassurance or the comfort, then that's what we do. We don't question it. Whatever he needs, a hug or to be told he's loved, we do it. No guilt, no feeling like we need to make excuses to be the big brothers he needs. Make sense?" Sig finished with a short flourish of his hand.

Norman looked past his brother and out the window. "And dad? What's he gonna say about all this?" Norman asked, unable to hide the twinge of hate and resentment in his voice.

Now it was Sig's turn to shift uncomfortably, not from pain or soreness but from something else. _Apprehension_. "Let's not worry about that now. Dad won't be home for a long while," he said, almost like he was comforting himself.

Norman turned cold blue eyes to his brother. "Sig," he said softly, "He's gonna come home eventually. And how do we go back now that we got this far?"

Sig's lip quivered and he had to bite down on it to stop the motion. He swallowed hard and tried to find the right words to answer this all important question. Norman watched him struggle and knew there would be no easy answer.

The stare off between them was interrupted by Dr. Hubert entering the room, followed by several nurses that went about checking this and that.

Sig gave his brother one last look. The look read pure determination. _I will make this right. Somehow, I will find a way to make this all turn out alright in the end_.

Getting up from the bed, Sig greeted the doctor with an outstretched hand.

"I didn't thank you proper last night, sir," Sig said firmly and with direct eye contact, "Thank you for saving my brother's life." At the end of the statement, Sig's voice wavered slightly, the word's 'my brother's life' coming out a little choked.

Dr. Hubert accepted the handshake and thanks with a broad smile. "He was the model patient," the doctor said, turning his head towards the patient himself. Grabbing the chart hanging off the end of the bed, the doctor examined the scribbled notes.

Norman liked that he was a model patient. _I could be a model. I'd put all those underwear models to shame. Wouldn't even need a sock, either._

"No fever. That's good," Dr. Hubert said, looking over the chart and then turned back to Sig, "You'll have to monitor him carefully for any signs of fever or infection for the next few days. I'll be sending home antibiotics that need to be taken carefully as directed. Lots of bed rest, no driving or any lifting for the next week. I'll also give you some painkillers just in case he needs them."

Norman looked like he'd just been given the ultimate insult. "Antibiotics, no working out, dry toast for supper…I'll do. You can keep the painkillers," Norman crossed his arms over his chest, tubes sticking out all over the place. He raised his chin up and glared at the doctor.

Sig gave his brother a stern warning glare from behind the doctor. "Sorry, sir," Sig stared at Norman, "He's the difficult one in the family." Sig mouthed silently to his brother, "I'm gonna smack you."

Since Norman was a good lip reader, he sighed and was instantly contrite, "Sorry, doctor."

"No problem, Mr. Hansen," the doctor laughed inwardly, sensing there was a conversation going on behind him. Having several brothers himself, Dr. Hubert was amused and also pleased that Norman was seemingly making a quick recovery. "I'll send the painkillers home just in case."

"And when will I be sent home?" Norman asked hopefully.

The doctor nodded over the chart and said, "Tonight, if all goes well. Now, let me check your stitches and see if we can't get that IV out of your arm and get you up and about. That should help you feel better."

"I'll step outside," Sig said with a nervous cough, not wanting to watch and add to his brother's already embarrassing situation.

"Hey," Norman whined after his brother, "Where ya goin'?"

Sig smiled, "I'm going to check on Edgar. Knowing him, he's probably filling out adoption paperwork and trying to bring home a little brother for himself."

"You're coming back, right?" Norman asked quickly, looking around the heavyset nurse that was trying to lift his bedding off him.

Sig laughed, "Yes, Norman, I'll be back."

* * *

Sig found Edgar in the nursery. He was sitting in a rocking chair and holding the new baby brother of the little girl. The proud new sister was fast asleep in her father's arms as he rocked her back and forth on his shoulder. The man whispered to Sig that he lied and said Edgar was a family member so that he could hold the baby. Sig smiled and thanked him.

Spotting his brother and realizing he went past his allotted ten minutes, Edgar started to stand and hand the baby back to the nurse. "Sorry," he whispered to his oldest brother.

Sig put his hand on Edgar's shoulder, encouraging him to stay seated and continue holding the baby. Sig knelt down and looked at the sleeping infant.

"Amazing, isn't it, how something so small can be so..." Sig whispered, lost for the right word.

"Miraculous?" Edgar finished his brother.

Sig raised an eyebrow and bowed his head with respect. His little brother had found just the right word. "Miraculous."

"He's so little, Sig."

"You were once that small, too," Sig said, hit with long forgotten memories, "I used to hold you just like that…when you were a baby."

Edgar's eyes grew wide, "Really?"

"Yeah, when I was allowed and heavily supervised. I was only five years old but I remember holding you. You were so soft and huggable. What happened?"

"Sig," Edgar whispered and rolled his eyes.

Sig laughed. "Just kidding. You're still huggable. I also remember Norman pitching a fit and throwing an epic temper-tantrum because he was deemed too young to hold you," Sig said proudly.

"Was I good baby?" Edgar asked quietly, staring at the miniature hand with all its wrinkled and flaky skin.

Sig wanted to say _'Edgar, you already know you were. You used to ask mom that all the time and she'd tell you that you were the easiest of all her babies. Then, you'd rub it in my face,'_ but Sig stopped himself. _Maybe it's important that my youngest brother still has someone that can answer these kinds of questions_.

"The best, kid," Sig said finally, stroking the back of his brother's neck for just a brief second. _Still are._

Edgar sighed deeply. As it turns out, holding a sleeping baby was tremendously therapeutic for him and he hesitated giving the baby back to the maternity nurse. After a few more minutes, he did just that.

The brothers congratulated the proud and tired father one final time and left the maternity floor. As they left, Sig said a quick prayer that the three of them would not be needing this particular floor of the hospital anytime soon.

* * *

Stopping off to make a phone call, Sig handed his brother some change and directed him to the vending machine. He felt like the worse big brother in the world when Edgar came back with only a Kit Kat bar for breakfast. _I've got to get this kid home, fed, and changed into something other than his pajamas. And we have grocery shopping today because the last banana in the house is in the trash can and covered with an unused condom. _

Realizing they had to go home at some point, Sig made his call and then walked Edgar back to Norman's room.

Norman was watching TV and drinking a cup of hot tea from his own personal tea pot. The IV was gone as well as some of the other monitors. His blood pressure monitor was still on but Norman seemed much happier than before.

That was until he spied his younger brother's Kit Kat bar. Like a dog watching his family eat dinner from under the dining room table, Norman's eyes grew wide with desire and his lips grew wet with saliva. He licked his lips and held out his hand, making a pinching crab motion towards his beloved and ignorant younger brother.

Edgar broke off one of the two remaining rectangular pieces. Innocent of the special dietary restriction, Edgar was about to lean over and hand the candy to Norman. Norman clapped his hands in a malicious fashion as the candy approached. Unfortunately, the chocolate was snatched up and away by the eldest brother, who popped it into his own mouth, chewing slowly and making "mmm" sounds for Norman's benefit.

"Noooo," Norman whined as the chocolate disappeared. _So close but no success._

Edgar scolded his oldest brother, "Sig, that was really, really mean." Edgar folded his arms over his chest and was willing to go and beg strangers for change so he could purchase another candy for Norman.

"No, kid, he's not allowed to have it. He was tricking you and he better stop it cause you'll have to take care of him while I'm at work. If he gives you any trouble, put it on the list," Sig said, licking a tiny bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Norman hissed softly at the motion.

Edgar turned accusing eyes to his older brother, "You were tricking me?"

"Necessary evil, kid," Norman explained, sipping his tea and looking less than apologetic.

"Selfishness is more like it," Sig added, walking past his youngest brother and whispering in his ear, "He'd kill for anything other than toast at the moment so don't take it personal, kid. He would try to trick a saint right now if said saint had some chocolate in his or her pocket."

Edgar laughed and Sig put an arm around his shoulder, laughing with him.

"What the hell is so funny?" Norman bristled, "I'm all stitched up, appendixless and stuck here in this hospital and you guys think this is something funny?" _Actually, kid, your laughter was the best thing I've heard all day. _

Sig laughed again, moving away from his brothers and settling himself on the windowsill. "What'ch watching, anyway?" he asked, motioning to the TV.

"An old episode of Bonanza. Just started," Norman explained.

Edgar turned the blue chair around to face the TV and made himself comfortable, "Mommy use to watch this ALL the time. She loved this show."

"More like she loved Little Joe," Sig laughed as he reclined in the window, "She always had a special spot in her heart for the youngest."

Edgar ignored the remark which was clearly directed at him. _She loved you both too. Otherwise, she'd never have come to warn me in my sleep. She was there, warning me to wake up and check on my brother. I know it was her. It wasn't just a dream - it was a sign. I'll tell you guys about it when the time is right, not now, cause you won't believe me. I don't feel like talking about it right now anyway._

The brothers watch the TV and commented during commercials. "Why'd these guys never get married anyway?" Norman asked.

"Cause all their wives and girlfriends ended up dead or getting shot. Even pa had three wives, all of which died. If you were a girl on the Ponderosa, would you run the risk," Sig explained his logic.

"I like the horses…and the campfires," Edgar chimed in.

"You would," Norman said, tossing an extra pillow over towards Edgar's direction. Sig caught the pillow in mid-air, handing it gently to his youngest brother with a smile. Edgar decided not to return the pillow and used it to make himself more comfortable in the easy chair.

"Hey," Norman exclaimed, "That's mine."

"Shouldn't have thrown it then," Sig answered without casting a look in Norman's direction.

"Shh, it's back on," Edgar said quickly before his brothers could get into an argument. "How can one family know so many people? That ranch was like Grand Central Station?"

"And no one ever stayed. Even Adam eventually left," Sig added.

Edgar glanced over at his oldest brother, "Why did Adam leave, Sig?" _Why do older brothers leave…and never come back?_

Sig shook his head, wanting to kick himself. _Stupid comment_. "I don't remember. Better job offer at a nearby ranch or movie script, I guess."

"Didn't matter," Norman said causally, "Adam was so full of himself, I didn't miss him or his guitar. On the other hand, Hoss was the best. He made the show."

Like always, by the time the show was over, all was well on the Ponderosa once more.

"Well, we havin' to headin' back to our own ranch there, little partner," Sig looked over at Edgar and said with the worst western accent anyone could imagine. The humor didn't work.

As if on cue, Norman and Edgar started whining and protesting like two kids being separated after a long and fun day at the park. Sig let them rattle on for a while, listening to the "But I want to stay with Norm" and "You said you won't leave, jerkface" and "Can we stay a little longer Sig?" and "God damn it, you better take me home with you."

After finally hearing enough, Sig put both hands up, palms flat and facing separate directions. The chattering protests stopped immediately. "Norman, unless you want to go home in that hospital gown, with your bare backside sticking out the back, we have to go home and get you a change of clothes. And, Edgar, you can't run around in your jammies for the rest of the day. Plus, there's things we've got to do. So, I'm taking Edgar home, Norman is staying here and we'll be back in a few hours," Sig said with the finality of a parent.

Both younger brothers accepted the wise decision quietly, having no choice since their oldest brother was annoyingly correct. _Just like Adam_, Norman thought.

Hearing a small commotion and familiar voices in the hallway, Sig smiled knowingly at Norman, "Don't worry, tough guy. You won't be alone. I made some calls."

As soon as the words got out of Sig's mouth, Amanda, Amanda's best friend, Megan, and several of Norman's high school buddies came storming into the room.

Carrying balloons and flowers, Amanda almost cried when she saw her boyfriend for the first time. Edgar and Sig collected the offerings and set them about the room.

Amanda threw her arms gingerly around Norman's neck and sobbed like only girls can. He held her closely and whispered soft words into her ear so that only she could hear them.

Edgar noted that Megan tossed a shy look at Sig and that Sig ignored the obvious glance. _Someone has a crush on my oldest brother but he is either oblivious or purposefully not interested_.

Norman's high school buddies were already busting his chops about the whole ordeal, claiming that he just wanted Amanda's fawning and affection and to get out of work for a while. One of his buddies, a fellow co-worker, teased Norman about already taking the extra shifts at the hardware store and thanked him for the unexpected spending cash.

The room was getting overcrowded and Norman was too busy soaking up all the attention to notice both his brothers quietly slipping out of the room. By the time Norman noticed their absence, Sig and Edgar were on their way home.


	30. Bring Out The Prisoner

**Sorry, another long chapter. But I do think this one is worth it.**

**WARNINGS: One well-timed swat, an empty threat of another, talk of discipline, adult topics and language, tears, tender moments and some humor. **

**A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to R. No kid should ever be bullied to death. My story isn't meant for young eyes but I can't control who reads this so I'll just say it: If you or someone you know is being bullied, stand up and say something. You're NEVER alone, even if you think you are, you're not. **

**Reviews are always appreciated and personally addressed. Guests, my thanks. Silent readers, enjoy. Special thanks to ficwriterjet, Ulls, Gaben, Signs, ER97, Amethystsea, SebJR and 1h2a34. **

* * *

The neon blue Trans Am pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "We should have said goodbye," Edgar said softly over the hum of the V8.

"I know, Edgar," Sig said, leaning over and ruffling his brother's fine, shaggy hair, "But we'll be back in a few hours and, believe me, Norman's got all the attention he can handle. He won't even notice we're gone. It's just easier this way."

Edgar turned and looked at his oldest brother's profile. Sig needed a shave, his five o'clock shadow starting to fill in around his mouth, and his sun-lighten, blond hair still tangled and straggly. Yet, Edgar couldn't help but notice just how handsome his brother really was. Sig was wearing his sun glasses, tan from hard outside work and could have easily passed for a summer beach bum waiting for the next big wave. All he needed was his swim trunks and a cute, bikini-clad girl hanging off his arm.

Not for the first time, Edgar was hit with the pains of regret and sadness. _My oldest brother hasn't enjoyed one minute of his summer. He's too busy taking care of this family to hang out at the beach or be with his friends. Why did mommy have to die? _

Looking out the passenger side window, Edgar muttered under his breath, "Goodbyes are never easy."

Sig heard the statement and looked at his brother for a moment before turning his gaze back to the road. With a sigh of regret, Sig focused his attention on getting them both home. Yet, his thoughts wavered on Edgar's statement. _I know you're thinking about a lot more than just Norman. You're thinking about mom leaving us. You're thinking about dad being away. And, you're thinking about me and when I'm gonna leave in September. Goodbyes ARE never easy. Never._

The remainder of the drive home was silent, each Hansen brother lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

Unlocking the backdoor, Sig entered the house, Edgar close behind him. Both of them stood in the doorway. The house was dark and eerily quiet. An empty popcorn bowl sat in the kitchen sink. The kitchen door to the garage had been left open. Things just did not feel right in the house without Norman, like someone else other than mom was now missing.

Shaking off the gloom, Sig walked over to the kitchen window and opened the blinds. Sunlight streamed in through the window. Turning to his brother, Sig said quietly, "Go get dressed and get ready. There's a lot we have to do before we can go back to the hospital and rescue our appendix-less brother."

"I'm hungry, Sig," Edgar whispered, almost like he felt guilty for complaining. "Can we make breakfast first?"

"Oh, kid, there ain't much to make," Sig said, looking through the empty cabinets. "Go get ready while I make some quick calls. Then, I'll take you to McDonald's for breakfast before we go shopping. How's that sound?" Sig gave the kid a smile.

Edgar shuffled his feet, "I don't know, Sig. Doesn't feel right, us enjoying hotcakes and sausage while Norm is stuck with hospital food."

Sig laughed, closing the cabinet doors, "Seriously, Edgar, if one of us was stuck in the hospital, do you think old Norman would feel guilty enough to turn down McDonalds?"

Edgar smiled, "No, he'd eat two orders of hotcakes and sausage in our honor."

"Correct," Sig said as he searched around for the phone book, finally finding it in the drawer by the phone, "So, for the third time, go get dressed and ready…please. I'm hungry, too."

"Ok, I'm going," Edgar responded with a nod and trudged off through the living room and up the stairs.

Sig watch him go out of the corner of his eye. Something about the set of his brother's shoulders was unusual, like the kid had a heavy weight sitting on top of him.

Dismissing the urge to call his brother back into the kitchen and hug the life out of him, Sig went about making his calls while doing the dishes.

First, he phoned the Harbor Master at Bristol Bay. The man knew his father well and Sig requested that word of Norman's surgery be passed along to his father when he came in to deliver his first catch. The Master sent his well-wishes to Norman. Then, he informed Sig that Sverre was due in this evening for an offload and he would gladly share the information of the successful surgery.

"If I may ask, have you had any word from my father?" Sig asked shyly.

"Oh," the Master said dismissively, "Bad storms lately and it hasn't been easy for the fleet. But, you know your father. He'll find the fish eventually. He always does."

Sig read between the lines. Things were not going well for dad this trip.

With respectful thanks, Sig ended the call.

His next call was the hardware store manager, Norman's employer. The manager worked at the store on the weekends and, since it was Sunday, was already at the store. Sig informed the manager of Norman's condition and that Norman would likely need some time off from work. The manager grumbled a little and Sig's heart sank.

"Please, sir," Sig asked softly, "My brother needs this job for the summer."

"Fine," the manager relented, "But I'll need him to work this upcoming weekend if he can."

"I'm sure Norman will be anxious to get back by Friday," Sig assured the manager. _No doubt, Norman will want to go to work tomorrow if I let him. Hopefully, he's feeling better by Friday. If not, I'll take a second job and Norman can tell this asshole to go fuck himself. _

The manager agreed to hold Norman's job till Friday and hung up on Sig without asking about Norman's health or wellbeing. _What a jerk_, Sig thought as he hung up the phone receiver. _Someday, my brother will have an engineering degree and he'll be your boss, asshole._

The last call Sig made was to a loan company, inquiring about how to take out a loan on his car. _Who knows how much the hospital is going to cost._ Getting the information he needed, Sig jotted down some notes on the back of the scribble pad by the phone.

After making his final call, Sig took a minute and sat at the kitchen table. He bowed his head and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was exhausted, hungry and physically and emotionally drained. Sig would have liked nothing more than to curl up on the living room sofa and take a nice, long nap. _Well, not as much as I'd like a fucking cigarette. But, my youngest brother is hungry, there's nothing to eat in the house and Norman will need things for when he gets home. I don't have time for a nap and I'm not going back to smoking…I hope. _

Fighting off the cravings for a nap and smoke, Sig refocused his thoughts on the upcoming tasks. He waited a few more minutes and then went upstairs to see what was taking Edgar so long.

As Sig climbed the steps, he spotted a fully dressed Edgar in the hallway, sitting on the floor outside the bathroom, his back against the hallway wall. Edgar was wearing one of Norman's old T-shirts and a pair of jeans and sneakers. Instead of coming downstairs, he was just sitting there, knees folded up to his chest and chin resting on top of them. The look in his eyes read distant and confused.

"Hey," Sig said softly, worried about the look and posture in front of him. Sig stood in the hallway and stared at his brother for a second or two. Then, he sat down next to Edgar in the hallway. _I'm not sure why we're sitting here but, ok, we'll sit here for a while. If Edgar wants to sit here, I'll sit here with him._

Putting an arm around his brother's shoulders, Sig tilled his head in his brother's direction and nuzzled his nose against his little brother's temple.

Edgar was a little startled at the touch and he flinched slightly.

Sig felt the tension and froze, hesitant of this unexpected response. He didn't move but he didn't withdraw his affection, either. _My God, he's jumpy and easily startled. Edgar always been an anxious kid but this is over the top. It's like he's on constant high alert, waiting for the next bad thing to happen in his life. This is no way for a kid to live. _

Edgar expected someone to come upstairs and yell at him for not being ready. _If dad were home, he'd grumble about me not listening or threaten me to get my butt downstairs if I knew what was good for me. But, dad's not home. Sig is. And Sig always listens to me. _

Letting the tension go, Edgar leaned into his brother's side. Sig inwardly sighed and pulled his brother closer.

"So...what are we doing in the hallway?" Sig asked quietly.

Edgar swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. "I went to go brush my teeth," he explained.

"Ok, that's good. Did you brush them?" Sig asked slowly, trying to decipher the secret code of teenage speak.

"No, sir."

"Please, Edgar, no 'sirs' right now. Do you still want to brush your teeth before we go?"

Edgar shook his head quickly. Letting out a shallow, broken sigh, he said, "There's so much blood in there."

Sig couldn't contain a loud cuss word and the sound echoed in the hallway. _There have been times in my life when I wanted to kick myself for being stupid. This is probably the worst. FUCKING IDIOT, I sent my brother up here to get ready and totally fucking forgot about the condition of the bathroom. Mother fucker! What the hell is wrong with me? Way to go, asshole, you just traumatized your youngest brother even more. _

"Oh shit," Sig sounded heartbroken, "I forgot. I'm so sorry. I should have told you not to go in the bathroom."

"It's ok, Sig," Edgar said, "I forgot, too. It's such a normal thing to do. I always get dressed and then go brush my teeth. I just totally forgot until I walked in the bathroom and saw Norman's…" Edgar stopped, not wanting to think about Norman's dried blood on the bathroom floor.

"I know it looks like a lot, but it's really not. It just looks that way." Sig said, recognizing that he sounded ridiculous but just trying to come up with something to comfort his brother. "I'll clean it up when we get home from the store."

"I'll do it now, Sig," Edgar protested, trying to get up.

Sig squeezed the narrow shoulders, forcing his brother to stay put, "No, Edgar, you're not. I'll clean the bathroom later. Not you. That's a direct order from the captain himself. No willfulness will be tolerated on this issue. End of discussion."

Edgar sighed, giving in. He'd been pretty disobedient lately. First, going to the hospital when he was told to stay home. Second, playing blocks when he was told to rest. Finally, holding the baby when he was told to come back in under ten minutes. Now, he was told to get ready and here he was, hanging out in the hallway. "Sig?"

"Yeah?" Sig said, getting up to his knees and holding onto the railing.

"I haven't been minding you real good, lately. I'm sorry," Edgar whispered up to his brother.

Sig stood to his full height and held out his right hand to his brother, who was still sitting on the floor. Edgar took the offering, feeling the gold class ring with the large blue stone sitting on the fourth finger of his brother's hand. Getting pulled up in one swoop of his brother's arm, Edgar found himself in a full embrace.

Sig hugged his brother tightly to his chest, rubbing his hair and neck gently with his right hand. "You can be stubborn, sometimes, little brother."

"I know," Edgar said sheepishly into the cotton fabric of his brother's green T-shirt.

"You won't be my little brother if you listened ALL the time," Sig said with a laugh and, without thinking, gave his brother a hearty swat to the seat of his jeans with his left, ring-less hand. The swat was 5% light sting and 95% noise but Edgar rocked forward in his brother's arms anyway. It was such an involuntary and unexpected event, both brothers were a little shocked.

"Hey," Edgar whispered, not sure what just happened, "You didn't warn me that was coming."

Sig pulled back, his blue eyes dancing with humor, "Sorry. I didn't even know it was coming. I think it's called a 'love tap' but I won't know. Never got any myself growing up. The strap isn't known for taps, so to speak. Did it hurt cause I didn't mean for it too?" _Maybe I just crossed a line. Did I take a liberty that I shouldn't? _

Edgar tilled his head to the side and thought about it, "No, not really. How'd you do that? How can that one swat not hurt when I know it can really pack a lasting sting if you want it too?" Edgar sounded like he was impressed.

"It's all in the wrist, kid. It's all in the wrist," Sig ruffled his brother's hair again and watched the kid smile broadly for the first time in many, many harrowing hours.

_Funny how a spanking can elicit so many different emotions. _Sig thought about that for a minute, remembering the two previous spankings he'd given his youngest brother. _The first brought out long-buried grief and the second, intense fear. This mild 'love tap' brought a smile._ Sig stopped questioning his action. Whatever just happened, it was worth it to see his brother smile again.

"I'll remember that for the next time I get in trouble," Edgar said playfully.

"Let there NOT be a next time, Edgar," Sig said as he pushed his brother away from the bathroom door. As he reached around the doorframe, Sig grabbed the toothbrushes and toothpaste off the bathroom sink. He refused to look at the floor and closed the bathroom door when he had the needed items.

"Here," Sig said as he handed the brushes and toothpaste over to Edgar, "Go brush your teeth in the kitchen. I'll be right down."

"Sig?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

_For taking care of everything last night while I almost fell apart. For saving my brother's life. For signing all those papers and making all those tough decisions. For never leaving me. For wiping the blood off my face and not scolding me for scratching myself. For holding me when I was a baby and for the Kit Kat bar this morning. For just a moment ago when you took the time to figure out what was wrong instead of just hollering at me to get ready. For the hug. For the constant protection you give me. For the spankings. For telling me you love me._ "For getting my toothbrush," Edgar finally said and headed off downstairs to brush his teeth in the kitchen.

Sig watched Edgar walk down the steps, wondering if there was more the kid wanted to get off his chest. _Let's just get breakfast, go to the store and get Norman home. Maybe then, Edgar will open up about what happened last night because I know that kid's still hurting inside. I know because I am, too. Neither one of us will forget the image of Norman's lifeless body on the floor, blood all over the bathroom tiles. That's stuff right out of a nightmare novel. That's the kind of stuff you see in haunted houses. _

Shaking off the bad memories, Sig went into Norman's room and returned Norman's wallet to the top of his dresser. Looking around, Sig made a mental note to move their parent's bedroom TV into the room. _God, Norman is gonna be a bear to live with the next few days. Maybe I should leave him in the hospital._ The half-naked pin-up ladies on the wall seemed to smiling down at Sig, laughing at his inner thoughts.

* * *

The boys' first stop was McDonalds. Sig ordered a jumbo size coffee and two Egg McMuffins. Edgar got the hotcakes and orange juice. Finding a place to sit by the window, they watched the traffic pass by and ate their meal.

Sig noticed Edgar was just pushing the food around on the white Styrofoam plate, not really eating.

"Eat, kid," Sig said softly, swallowing the heavenly black liquid from his cup, "I know you're hungry."

Edgar sighed and took his first bite. He still felt guilty about Norman's situation but he would have felt worse wasting Sig's money on uneaten food. "They sure aren't as good as your pancakes," Edgar said quietly.

"But they're much easier to clean up," Sig added. Considering if he should bring it up, he decided to ask, "You want to go to the cemetery after the store?"

Edgar continued eating, staring down at his food. Giving it careful thought, he answered, "Yes, there's something I want to say…to mom."

Sig eyes grew wide. Not sure how to respond, he leaned over the table and said, "Edgar, you can tell mom whatever you want no matter where you are. She's always around, watching out for us."

"I know. Believe me, I know," Edgar said, looking up into his brother's face, "I just want to talk to her there."

"Ok…" Sig said and left it at that. His mind was full of thoughts he kept to himself.

* * *

The grocery store was crowded and the shopping process became an ordeal Sig had little patience for. Thankfully, Edgar was extremely helpful, running around the store and getting things like bananas, bread and lunchmeat while Sig waited on line at the seafood and butcher counters. Sig also instructed Edgar to get some crossword puzzle books and some novels that Norman might like.

Returning with the books, Edgar dropped them in the cart and frowned, "He's not gonna like being stuck in bed."

"That's an understatement. He's going to be downright impossible. But, you'll have to be firm with him while I'm at work," Sig said with a smile, "Don't take his crap. Just walk away from him and let him sulk on his own. He'll get lonely fast, beg you come back and promise to behave himself. He'll never admit it, but, he hates being alone when he's hurting."

"I don't know, Sig," Edgar looked doubtful, "Norman always drifted off by himself after he got a licking."

"Yeah, but that's only cause he doesn't like people seeing him cry. Norman's kinda shy like that."

"Norman never cried after dad punished him," Edgar said, hands folded over his chest in disbelief.

Sig laughed, "Sure he did, kid. So did I. We just never said anything. Probably cause we didn't want to upset you. But, looking back, I think all we did was reinforce dad's old-school ways…big mistake. Didn't you ever notice that after a licking, Norman went to places people could easily find him, like the garage or the basement? He wanted to be alone but he didn't ever want to feel lonely either…big difference."

Pondering this information, Edgar started to see his brothers in a new light, like maybe they were more human and less like the superheroes he always imagined them to be. In a way, it made him feel closer to them.

Sig took Edgar to the personal care aisle, encouraging him to select a solid deodorant to start off with. Edgar sniffed several sticks, finally making his decision on the one that smelled the least 'girly.' Sig then tossed some facial wash into the cart, indicating to Edgar that he needs to start washing his face more often. Edgar just shrugged his shoulders, not sure why he had to start washing his face more but, if Sig thought he should, he would begin doing so.

Plowing their way through the rest of the store, the last stop was made at the floral section. Sig allowed Edgar to pick out the type of flowers for their mothers grave. Edgar selected three white gardenias and Sig nodded, telling Edgar he made a fine choice. The boys finished their shopping, paid for their purchases and headed out of the crowded store and back to the car.

* * *

The sun felt wonderful, especially considering yesterday's heavy rain, but the cemetery always seemed gloomy, no matter the weather. Oldest and youngest Hansen stood silently in front of their mother's grave.

The carnation left by Edgar two days ago was washed away by the same storm that had prevented him from going to the Shack last night, erasing all evidence of his secret visit and, in effect, saving him once again.

Sig left his gardenia and had a silent, private conversation with his mother.

Edgar did the same, leaving two flowers in front of his mother's pink stone, one from him and one from Norman. Then, he had a long, silent conversation with his mother about many different things.

Most importantly, he told her he knew it wasn't just a dream, that she had been in his room last night and that she woke him up so he could save his brother in time. It was no stroke of luck Norman survived…it was a stroke of love and he told her so.

* * *

Sig and Edgar made quick work of unpacking the groceries. Then, Sig made Edgar lunch and placed the offering on the kitchen table.

"Aren't you gonna eat anything?" Edgar asked as he took a big bite of his sandwich.

Sig shook his head, "No. And I want you to stay down here for a little while."

Edgar paused in mid-bite. "You're gonna clean the bathroom, aren't you?"

"Yes, and I want you down here when I do it," Sig said, pointing to the first floor of the house. "No arguments."

"I could help you."

"Yes, you could, but you're not."

"You shouldn't have to do that by yourself, Sig."

"Edgar, are you arguing with me?" Sig teased, leaning over the table and glaring at his youngest brother. He couldn't hide the smile threatening to break his cheeks and he gave up. "Need another 'love tap,' do ya?"

Edgar laughed, "Fine, but can I eat in front of the TV? I hate eating alone."

"Sounds good to me. You can have lunch with the Seattle Mariners. They're playing the Angels right now. Should be a good game."

Edgar took his plate and went off into the living room. A minute later, Sig heard the sounds of strikes, cheers and wood hitting baseballs. Slipping past Edgar, Sig climbed the stairs and set his mind to the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, Sig entered the bathroom and flipped on the light.

He tried not to look but he couldn't help himself. Of course, Sig had seen blood before. Hell, he'd even seen Norman's blood multiple times growing up, like when Norman was seven years old and cut his head on the coffee table, needing five stitches to close the wound. Or when Norman got into that fight in middle school and got punched in the face. _The other guy ended up with two black eyes and a fat lip and Norman only had a little cut on his chin. He got suspended for that fight, too. Dad was livid. He never gave Norman a chance to explain what the fight was about, just gave him a lickin' and sent him on his way. _

Sig concentrated on the memories of that fateful day of middle school, all the while letting his body take over the work of cleaning the bathroom. As he cleaned the blood and vomit off the floor, it was like he wasn't really seeing it. All he could see was that fight in the school hallway.

******Sig's Middle School Memories******

I was in eighth grade, Norman was in seventh. Some asshole in my class decided to make my life a living hell all because I got braces. The jerk tortured me every morning before homeroom, calling me brace-face, shark-mouth and other not so nice terms. I don't know why I didn't stick up for myself but I guess I was afraid of getting into trouble at school. The more I didn't say anything, the worse it got. The kid started harassing me throughout the day, calling me a pussy and turning people against me.

But I just took it. For weeks, I just took the abuse. I didn't want to go to school anymore and thought about skipping all the time. But, the fear of dad finding out I played hooky was more frightening than the bullying, so I just went to school every day and pretended like it wasn't happening. My grades started slipping and I got quiet at home, hiding in the house most of the time. I hated myself. I hated the way I looked. I hated my life.

I never said anything to my family about it because I was ashamed, like maybe I deserved it. But, Norman must have heard about it through the preverbal middle school grapevine because, one day, he followed me to homeroom. I didn't even know he was following me because I was so focused on just getting through the day without crying.

As soon as I got to the classroom door, the kid yelled "brace-face" and Norman decked the kid with a right hook that knocked him on his heels. The kid got one punch off, which Norman took standing still and then smashed his fist into the kid's left eye. Norman went nuts, jumping on top of the kid and whaled the tar out of him. Before the teachers could pull Norman off the kid, I heard my brother whisper to the kid, "You ever fucking say anything to my brother again, I'll fucking kick the shit out of you every day of your life."

The kid never said another word to me after that day. I should have been humiliated to have my younger brother fight my battles for me but I wasn't. I was too overwhelmed that someone loved me so much, they were willing to face the punishments I feared on my behalf.

Norman and I never talked about that day. The teachers hauled him off and he got sent to the principal's office. Mom had to come pick him up. He never explained to anyone why he got into the fight, not even to the principal, who would have gone easier with him if he would have had some kind of legitimate reason. Instead, he got suspended for five days and dad gave him one memorable licking when he got home.

******End of Middle School Memories******

When Sig was done, the bathroom tile was so clean, Joan Crawford would have been pleased. Putting away the cleaning supplies, Sig stripped off his clothes and jumped into the shower.

With the shower water running and the bathroom door shut, Sig collapsed to his knees in the tub and cried his eyes out. He wept quietly into his hands, his shoulders shaking and his stomach cramping from the pain of holding back the loud sobs. He wanted to scream but couldn't, too worried about Edgar being within earshot downstairs, enjoying the baseball game. Sig finally gave into all the fears, horrors and terrifying moments of almost losing his brother and best friend and just cried till the water ran cold.

* * *

Listening to the running water, Edgar wondered why Sig was taking so long in the shower. The Mariners were winning by a wide margin and Edgar watched the game till the seventh inning. Then, he turned the TV off and went into the kitchen to clean off his plate.

Edgar heard the shower water shut off and the bathroom door open. He wandered upstairs because he figured the bathroom was clean by now and he was starting to feel lonely watching the game all by himself.

Sig was standing in the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and shaving by the bathroom sink.

Edgar loved watching this process and sat cross-legged in front of the bathroom door, mesmerized by the stroking of the razor going across the stubble on his brother's face. He liked the sound the razor made when Sig swished it around in the water, shaking off the shaving cream before the next pass.

Glancing out the corner of his eye, Sig contained a chuckle. "It's really not that interesting, Edgar," he muttered, trying not to cut himself.

"For you, maybe. I think it's awesome. I can't wait until I have stubble to shave off," Edgar said, feeling the baby-smooth skin of his own cheeks. _Nothing yet._

"I'll admit, at first, it's somewhat fun. But it gets old pretty quick. Believe me, the longer you have to do it, the less fun it gets," Sig said as he dipped the razor into the sink and inspected his face for any missed spots.

"You'll teach me how someday?" Edgar asked quietly.

Sig laughed, "I'll teach you now. Come here."

Edgar was in shock, "For real?"

"Yes, for real. Come here, seriously."

Edgar jumped up, excited and stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Sig washed off the razor with clean water, placed it on the sink and then splashed his face, removing the last of the cream.

Gently taking his brother by the arm, Sig stood him before the mirror. Sig stayed close behind Edgar, head and shoulders taller than him and they looked at each other's reflection for a minute.

Sig ran a finger over the light scratch on Edgar's cheek, "Can we talk about this?"

Edgar shook his head and said in a whisper, "Please, not right now."

"Ok, but I think we should talk about it soon," Sig said, trying to sound casual, like the conversation would be an everyday kind of event.

Inside, Sig's stomach felt like pretzel thinking about pain and anguish Edgar went through last night. It bothered him a lot that Edgar seemed closed off from the pain, like a self-protection switch in his mind got accidentally trip and a wall come down to shield him from hurt. It was like the mind was saying 'this is too much for you to handle right now so I'm taking over.'

Sig sighed, giving Edgar on final look in the mirror, and then picked up the shaving cream off the counter. From behind Edgar, Sig's arms in front of him, Sig said, "Shake it up a little, then squeeze the trigger like this," Sig moved his hands and sprayed the foam.

"Work it into lather and spread it on your face."

Sig gently spread the foam on Edgar's face, avoiding the little scratch, and Edgar ended up looking like Santa Claus. _Trying to do this to someone else while looking in a mirror is extremely difficult, _Sig thought_. _Edgar was laughing at this point but Sig stayed serious so Edgar controlled his giggles.

Sig put the safety cap on the razor and filled the sink back up with fresh water. "Then, just start at the top, here," Sig said, moving his hand around Edgar's face and gently making the first stroke downwards, removing the shaving cream as the capped razor made its descent.

"Then you start at the next spot, go down, rinse and repeat."

Edgar watched the process in the mirror, absorbing every piece of information he could. Sig was so gentle with him, it was hard to concentrate on what he was supposed to be learning. _Is this the same guy that used to hide Mr. Snuggles and then laugh when I spent hours trying to find him?_

"The hardest part is under the neck," Sig tipped his brother's face up with his left hand and gently stroked away the shaving cream with his right. Wiping away all of the shaving cream, Sig released the gentle hold and looked into the mirror.

"See, perfect job. I didn't miss a single hair," Sig smiled into both of their reflections.

Edgar smiled back, "There was none to miss, Sig."

Sig dipped the razor into the water and then splashed his brother's face. "Smart ass, I did a great job."

Edgar cupped his hand and splashed his brother back, laughing and running out of the bathroom.

The oldest Hansen laughed and cleaned up the sink and the mess. Taking his dirty clothes, he walked out of the bathroom, haunted memories of the place now eradicated by the sounds of laughter.

* * *

"Hey, Edgar," Sig called, "Can you grab a duffle bag, extra pillows and a fresh set of sheets out of the hallway closet? Take them into Norman's room, will ya?"

"Sure. Can I pick out the old, silk Superman sheets from the top of the closet?"

Laughing his ass off, Sig hollered out of his room, "Yes, Norman will appreciate that." Dressing quickly, Sig got his wallet out of his jeans and slipped it into his back pocket. He left his bedroom without making his bed. _Mom will have to forgive me for the unmade bed but there are things we have to do and Norman is probably hanging out the seventh story window of the hospital by now. _

Sig went into their parent's room and rolled the TV into the hallway. Luckily, the TV wasn't heavy and the rolling cart made the job easy. He rolled it into Norman's room, where he found Edgar sitting on Norman's bed, staring at the scantily clad women on the walls.

"Stop looking at the ladies and help me."

"Sig, why does Norman have those girls on the wall when he's in love with Amanda?" Edgar asked innocently.

Sig tried to focus on hooking up the TV and moving Norman's bed to the center of the wall. His brother's question was a good one and he didn't want to ignore it but the answer was difficult. "Well, like I said, Norman doesn't like to feel alone. These ladies keep him company when he can't be with Amanda."

"Why can't they keep him company with their clothes on instead of off?" Edgar said, changing the sheets on the bed.

"Ummm, Edgar, when you look at those girls, does anything happen? Any kind of reaction? Like a physical reaction?" Sig asked as he hid behind the TV, pretending to play with the wires.

Edgar thought about it for a minute. A light bulb went off and all he said was, "oh…ok. You guys do that, too?"

_Can I just die from embarrassment, please?_ "It's normal, kid. All guys do it. We just don't ever talk about it," Sig managed to get out, his face beet red and hidden behind the TV.

"Sorry," Edgar whispered, feeling slightly humiliated.

The humiliation in his brother's voice forced Sig to man up and stop hiding behind the TV. He got up and helped his brother make the bed, "Don't be sorry, Edgar. I'd rather you talk to us than someone else, remember? Just let me know if you…need anything…baby oil or lotion or something." Sig said the last part so fast, Edgar barely understood the words. He got the message, though. _At least he cares enough about me to mention it._

Edgar nodded, still feeling somewhat embarrassed. A fresh set of sheets, fluffed pillows and a made bed facing the TV transformed the room. Sig moved the nightstand to the head of the bed and placed the purchased books and puzzles by the bed.

"Ok, I think the prison is ready. Ready to go get the prisoner?" Sig asked, looking around Norman's room.

"He'll need clothes," Edgar said as he picked up the duffle bag and placed it on the bed.

"Maybe I should make him come home in just the hospital gown," Sig said as he riffled through Norman's perfectly arranged drawers.

Edgar rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, "No thanks, I saw enough of his butt this weekend."

Sig found a soft pair of dark gray sweatpants, a muscle t-shirt, and a pair of socks. Edgar went in Norman's closet and found a pair of sneakers on the closet floor. When he turned around to put the shoes in the bag, Sig was standing by the dresser, holding up a pair of black satin boxers with tiny pink and red hearts all over them.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sig said, showing the boxers to Edgar.

"Pack those. They look comfortable." Edgar said innocently.

Sig giggled mischievously as he packed the sexy boxers on the top of the bag. _I'm sure Norman will not appreciate this sentiment._

* * *

Deciding Norman would appreciate seeing his baby, Sig and Edgar returned to the hospital in the Ford pick-up truck. It was close to the dinner hour by the time they got to the hospital and Sig anticipated getting an earful from their middle brother. _I can hear it already. What the hell took you so long? You should have been back hours ago. Did you get lost on your way back to the hospital? Did you go see the six hour long Star Wars Trilogy before or after you remembered I was stuck here? _

As luck would have it, Norman was sound asleep when they got his room. All the visitors had left and the flowers and balloons were gone. The pretty nurse was making quiet notes in the chart and smiled at the boys as they tip-toed in the room.

"Is he ok?" Edgar whispered, concerned that Norman was taking a nap in the middle of the day. Norman never napped.

The nurse closed the chart and returned it to the hook, "Yes, love, he's doing much better. He's going to be very tired for the next few days and he'll probably sleep quite a lot. It's the body's way of healing itself." She turned to Sig and said, "You're brother's quite the character, Mr. Hansen."

"Sorry, ma'am. Our mother tried her best with him," Sig said with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, he's a rascal, that's for sure," the nurse explained, "But he's one of a kind. Did you know he had all his flowers and balloons sent down to the geriatric unit? He said the older folks don't often get visitors and he thought the flowers would brighten someone's day." The nurse finished with a nod and left the room.

A look passed between Sig and Edgar. _Tough guy on the outside, marshmallow man on the inside._

An hour went by and Norman still slept. Sig was called to the nurse's desk and given written instructions on home care. The nurse stressed the importance of watching out for fevers and insisting on bed rest for the next few days. She explained that Norman could have normal food tomorrow, around dinner time, but to keep it light, like soup or plain beef and rice. The nurse gave Sig two white packets of pills, one an antibiotic taken four times a day, the other filled with ten painkillers and a large orange warning label across the front.

"No more than two painkillers a day, Mr. Hansen. There's only five days' worth in here. If young Mr. Hansen is still in pain after that, call us."

_It's not like he'll tell me anyway, even if he is in pain_.

The nurse also provided an antibiotic ointment for the stitches and explained that the sight needed to be kept clean and dry for a few days. She put all the instructions, medicine and important phone numbers in a large manila envelope, sealed it shut and handed it to Sig. Sig felt like he just handed the prisoner's personal effects before the execution.

Then, Sig had to sign more paperwork. _This hospital is single-handedly killing a forest._

"The doctor will be in for one final check before Mr. Hansen goes home. We'd like to see him eat dinner here first and then he'll be discharged," the nurse finished with a smile, "Between you and me, I'll miss him when he leaves."

"Would you like to keep him?" Sig laughed, taking the envelope and heading back to the room.

"The nurses would never get anything done," she called down the hallway.

By the time Sig got back to the room, Norman was awake and having a very soft conversation with Edgar. Edgar was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over and, strangely, holding his older brother's hand.

Sig hid behind the partially closed curtain and listened in. Normally, he won't ever be that rude to eavesdrop on a conversation between his brothers but he needed to make sure Norman wasn't trying to convince Edgar to bring him Filet Mignon and a loaded baked potato when they got home.

"It was just a dream, kid," Norman said softly.

Edgar shook his head passionately, "No, Norman. I felt her touch my cheek, like she always did when we were little. I smelled her perfume. She was there, waking me up so I could go find you. She saved your life, Norman. I know she did."

Norman sighed, "No, Edgar, you saved my life."

Edgar was undeterred, "Norman, you can believe what you want but mommy saved your life last night. She's still looking out for you from heaven. She must still love you very, very much."

Sig heard a strangled gasp, quickly covered up by a fake cough. The air in the hospital room hung heavy for a moment. Then Norman asked, "Did you watch the Mariners game? Good game, huh? The Angels suck. I hate that team."

_Way to sidetrack the conversation, bro. _

Another nurse bustled in, startling Sig and Norman and Edgar separated. The nurse brought a tray of food and instructed Norman to finish all his dinner if he wanted to get out of the hospital.

"He will," Sig said as if he just entered the room, "He'd eat worms to get out of this place."

"Worms would have more protein than this," Norman said, pointing to the bowl of rice and dry toast being offered.

The nurse shot Norman a frown and he bowed his head, eating the pathetic supper.

Sig sat on the windowsill and Edgar curled up in the blue chair. The boys hung out in silence, each lost in their own thoughts and just wanting to go home.

A few minutes later, the phone next to Norman's bed rang. "The girl just can't get enough of me," Norman smiled, assuming Amanda was calling from her job at the Dairy Queen.

Sig leaned over and picked up the phone.

"Hello."

"Sigurd, what the hell is going on?" Sverre Hansen asked gruffly.

Sig stood straight up and shot Norman a look of shock.

"Hello, sir. How are you?" Sig asked.

Norman and Edgar figured out in a hurry who was on the phone. Norman put down his fork and stared at his oldest brother.

"I'd be better if I could catch a few more damn fish. Why the hell is Norman in the hospital? It took me five God damn tries to find this number. The bitch of an operator kept hanging up on me. What the hell happened, Sigurd?"

Dad sounded upset and Sig couldn't tell if he was worried about Norman or just pissed off in general. Their father's emotions always looked the same; annoyed and frustrated. Sig explained the situation, reassuring their father that everything was fine. "Norman's feeling much better. They're gonna release him real soon. Do you want to talk to him? He's right here," Sig said as he pulled the phone over to the bed.

Norman reached his hand out, unable to hide the look of excitement that flashed across his face.

"No, I have to go. Too much shit going wrong here. Just do the best you can, Sig. This trip could last longer than expected," Sverre said.

"Oh, ok," Sig said as he put the phone back on the table. He watched Norman's face crumble. "Good fishing, dad," Sig whispered into the receiver.

No response. The line went dead.

Sig hung up the phone and turned to Norman, "He had to go. Things don't look good for this trip, I guess."

"Sure…whatever," Norman muttered, resuming his meal. He refused to look at either of his brothers and just kept shoveling rice into his mouth. Sig could see the fork in his hand tremble once, just so slightly anyone else not looking for it would have missed it. Norman was deeply hurt.

Sig wanted to call his dad back and scream at him. _**YOU COULDN'T TAKE FIVE GOD DAMN SECONDS TO TALK TO YOUR SON WHO ALMOST DIED! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH **__**YOU**__**?**_

Instead, he found himself defending his father. "He called, Norman. He was worried about you," Sig said quietly.

"Did you see the Mariners game? It was a good one," Norman said suddenly, going on about the chances of Seattle making it to the World Series this year.

Edgar came to the rescue, engaging Norman in a heavy discussion about the starting pitching rotation and the talented bullpen.

Sig remained quiet and listened to the baseball talk. He tried to join in but it was subterfuge he didn't have the heart for. _First, talk about mom's love and then dad's gruff ways. It's too much. Can we please just go home?_

The doctor stopped in, examined all the notes and the patient himself. Then he deemed Norman a free man.

As the doctor left, Sig stepped out of the room with him, "Thank you, again."

"You're very welcomed, Mr. Hansen."

"May I ask you a question? About my youngest brother?"

"Sure."

Sig explained his concerns over Edgar's behaviors. He talked quickly, going over their mother's death, Edgar's self-destructive ways, including his scratched face and now Norman's sudden illness, "Edgar seems easily startled, jumpy and a little withdrawn. Is that normal?"

"It can be. It sounds like he's been through a lot of trauma in the past six months. I can give you the name and phone number of a professional therapist, if you want."

Sig never thought about that before. _Does Edgar need a shrink? Dad would have a cow_. Sig took the information anyway and thanked the doctor for listening.

"Sir, one more thing. I was hoping to take my brothers to the lake on Wednesday. Do you think I should cancel the trip now? We'd never go without Norman and if he can't go, none of us will."

The doctor thought about it for a minute. "No, go and have fun. It could be good for all of you. Just make sure Mr. Hansen takes it easy, like lying by the lake instead of jumping off the dock, if you know what I mean."

Sig nodded. _I can do that_. The doctor went about making his rounds and Sig went back in the room. Norman was riffling through his duffle bag and pulled out the sexy pair of boxers. "Really? I have, like, fifty pairs of boxers and you pick these?"

"Edgar's idea," Sig said, pointing over at their youngest brother.

"You found 'em," Edgar whined, defending himself.

Norman muttered, embarrassed, "They were from Amanda for Valentine's Day."

"I thought you bought them for yourself," Edgar said with a smile.

"No, but just wait till I go clothes shopping for you, Edgar," Norman said as he shifted off the bed.

"You need help?" Sig asked with a concern voice as he watched Norman gingerly get out of bed.

"Uh, nooo," Norman grumbled as he took the duffle bag and shuffled off to the bathroom in his bare feet, slamming the door.

Sig sat on the bed and waited. He smiled over at Edgar. Holding a hand up, Sig lowered each finger like he was counting down for something. When all the fingers were gone, someone called from the bathroom.

"Ok, yes…I need help."

"I knew it," Sig rolled his eyes and got off the bed, heading into the bathroom.

Edgar listened to the commotion coming from behind the closed door and tried not to laugh.

"Just sit down."

"No, I'm standing."

"For God's sakes, Norman, just sit down."

"I don't need a shirt."

"Just lift your arms up."

"Why'd you bring sweats? I want my jeans."

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Where's my cowboy boots?"

"At home."

"I want my boots."

"Then go home and get 'em."

"I can tie my own sneakers, Sig."

"Like to see you try."

"F off…ok, tie my shoes for me."

"I'm leaving you here."

After a ten minute battle, Norman emerged from the bathroom dressed and very ready to go home. Sig looked like he was ready to punch someone.

Grabbing the manila envelope off the swivel tray, Sig escorted his brothers out of the room. Edgar looked back, saying a mental goodbye to the room and hoping to never see the place again. Norman just kept truckin' down the hallway, slow but steady.

"What ya got?" Norman asked, referring to the manila envelope in Sig's hand.

"A pink slip for your ass. I own you now."

"I'm not taking any painkillers, Sig." Norman muttered, although he was in a lot of pain already. Just walking down the hallway was painful. His stomach hurt and he was tired.

"Fine, Norman. Whatever you want. Can we please just go home?"

When they got to the end of the hallway, Norman froze. "Oh, NO FUCKING WAY," he said, staring hard at the silver elevator doors in front of him.

Sig had already anticipated this problem, "You want to go home, Norman. This is how we get there."

"I get to push the button," Edgar bounced in front of them and pushed the down arrow, lighting up the little circle.

Norman started looking around desperately, "There has to be stairs close by. It's some kinda fire law."

"Norman, we're on the seventh floor of the hospital. You can't even bend over to tie your shoes. How the hell would you make it down seven flights of stairs?"

"I could try, damn it."

"How do you think you got up here in the first place?"

No answer. Norman just watched the little red floor numbers light up as the elevator made its ascent. His hands started to shake. _Maybe the hospital isn't so bad after all._

Sig slipped an arm around his brother's lower back, pretending to be supporting him, and pulled him close. He held his breath, waiting to be shooed away. Instead, Norman leaned into his brother's side. Sig whispered, "You got up here in an elevator."

"I don't remember that."

"You were sedated."

"Sedate me again."

"No time. Here it is," Sig said as the doors opened and several people piled out.

Edgar walked in the elevator and waited for his brothers, wondering what the heck they were waiting for. _I want to go home. I want you all home with me. I want all of us to curl up in Norman's bed and watch TV. I want things to be normal again…at least as normal as they can be. Come on, guys._

"I can't," Norman whispered, looking into the elevator, "I'll be trapped."

"Just close your eyes and walk," Sig whispered. Slowly, Norman allowed Sig to guide him into the elevator and just faced the back of the wall. Sig motioned to Edgar to push the first floor button.

The doors closed. Norman flinched and Sig pulled him tighter. Sig looked at his younger brother's face. Norman's eyes were screwed shut, he was biting his lip and breaking out into sweat around his forehead.

"Remember in middle school when you beat the shit out of that kid?" Sig whispered.

Norman grabbed his brother's right hand when the elevator started to drop. "Yeah, what the hell made you think of that?" Norman kept his eyes closed.

"You got in a fight in middle school?" Edgar asked, his K9 hearing still as good as ever.

"Thanks, Sig," Norman grumbled, "Not a good example to bring up in front of the kid?"

"He sure did, Edgar, although it wasn't much of a fight," Sig explained, "Norman kicked the shit out of the guy."

"Norman! That's so cool," Edgar exclaimed.

Norman blanched at the squeaky voice, "Dad didn't seem to think so."

"What the guy do, anyway?" Edgar asked.

Norman opened his eyes, glancing Sig's way. "He looked at me funny, kid," Norman grumbled and closed his eyes. He squeezed Sig's hand hard. Sig didn't know if the squeeze was out of fear, anger or something else. He got his answer a second later. Norman rubbed his thumb over Sig's class ring, down his finger and back. It was likely one of the subtlest signs of affection Sig ever got.

"Will you teach me to throw a punch?' Edgar asked, jumping around and shadow boxing.

"I taught him to shave this afternoon. It's your turn," Sig whispered in Norman's ear.

Norman gulped, trying to control his rapid breathing and heart rate. "Fine, anything, if you'll stop jumping around. You're making me sick." _Actually, you're making me very nervous. Please stop._

"Norman, are you ok? You don't look so good," Edgar asked, instantly concerned and ready to push the up button on the elevator as the doors open. _Let's go back upstairs because maybe you're still sick. What's wrong with you?_

"He'll be fine now," Sig said as they exited the elevator. He felt Norman relax against him but he did not pull away. Sig was allowed to keep his arm around his brother till they got to the truck. _He's in pain. I can tell._

"Ahhh, my baby. Can I drive?" Norman asked, climbing gingerly into the passenger side.

"Edgar has a better chance of driving home, Norman. Put your seatbelt on," Sig said, letting Edgar climb in first on the driver's side.

"Can't…I can't reach around for it."

"Edgar, you get the honors," Sig said, holding his breath. _Let's see how this goes_.

Edgar leaned over his brother and buckled his seatbelt carefully.

"Thank you," Norman said quietly.

"Welcome."

Sig let the breath out and was grateful. Norman didn't give Edgar a hard time about treating him like a baby. It was a good sign.

The drive home was full of country music, open windows, fresh evening air and a beautiful summer sunset.

~tbc


	31. The Little Brother Code

**Short little fluffy chapter - no warnings**

* * *

Norman stood at the bottom of the steps, staring up at the second floor of the house. He desperately wanted to be in his own bed, in his own room and without someone coming in every five minutes to ask him how he felt. He wanted to brush his teeth, which tasted like they were covered in a half-inch worth of scum. He wanted to use a bathroom that didn't have a little red 'help' button by the toilet. He wanted to take a 30 minute shower and scour off the hospital smell that seemed imbedded into his pours.

But the steps seemed strangely daunting. _I've run up these stairs a thousand times. Used to drive mom nuts. When Sig and I were younger, we used to race each other up these steps and then sit at the top, teasing poor Edgar, who was too little to climb the steps on his own. Now, I AM Edgar; helpless and stuck at the bottom. Maybe if I cry, someone will pick me up and carry me. That always seemed to work for him. _

_I AM NOT A BABY!_ Refusing to ask for help, Norman gingerly raised his right leg, bent his knee and made the first step up. The step itself wasn't all that bad. The stomach muscles he had to use to straighten himself back up, on the other hand, groaned in agony. Breathing through the pain, Norman thought it was a good idea to just stand there, hold on to the railing and take a rest. _One down. Eleven more to go. _

* * *

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Sig was going over specific instructions with Edgar for tomorrow. Spreading out the items from the manila envelope onto the counter, Sig wrote down everything Edgar needed to remember on the scribble pad usually kept by the phone.

Looking at the eager, green eyes in front of him, Sig felt a pang of guilt and hesitation. "Edgar, I'm really sorry. I know this is a lot to put on a kid."

Edgar immediately felt insulted. It was one thing to be called 'kid' as a term of affection. It was a completely another to be referred to as one.

Standing erect, Edgar jutted his out hairless chin, "I can handle this, Sig. I'm not an idiot."

"Geez, kid," Sig said, "I ain't saying you are. I'm just saying I feel bad sticking you with all this responsibility." _Actually, I feel horrible about it. It is too much to ask of a kid but I got no one else. I'd love to take off from work tomorrow but we need the money. And someone has to take care of stuff when I'm gone_.

"Please, Sig, I can do this," Edgar said proudly. He wanted so badly to please his oldest brother and show him he could handle things on his own.

"Ok, kid," Sig said with a resigned sigh, "One antibiotic in the morning, one at noon, one at dinner and one at bedtime. You only have to worry about the ones for the morning and noon. I'll get the dinner and bedtime ones."

"That's the blue and purple ones," Edgar said, looking into the small, white packet.

"Yes, blue and purple. See, I wrote that down here," Sig said as he turned the paper around to show Edgar what he wrote. "Bring one up with his breakfast and one with lunch. You may need to wake Norman up to get him to take them but it is VERY important that he take them with food and at the right time. Got it?"

"Yep, got it. What about these round, white ones?" Edgar asked, staring into the other white packet.

"That's Codeine. It's a painkiller. Only give him one if he asks for it, which he won't, so don't worry about them," Sig explained.

"They look like aspirin, Sig."

"They're a lot stronger than regular aspirin and can be addicting if you take them too long."

"Like cigarettes," Edgar asked.

Sig thought about that for a second, "No, these pills are ok for you if you're really in pain and the doctor prescribes them. Cigarettes are never good for you under any circumstance."

Edgar bowed his head, a little ashamed of the reminder from two nights ago. Sig nudged his brother with his shoulder, pushing him slightly. Edgar looked up and Sig gave him a smile. "I was in the same boat as you, Edgar. Just for a lot longer."

Edgar leaned in and whispered, "You miss 'em? The cigarettes?"

Sig leaned down, whispering, "Honestly?"

Edgar nodded.

"Yes, a hell of a lot. I've wanted one ALL day," Sig confessed quietly.

"Is that why Norman won't take the pills? Cause he's worried about getting addicted?" Edgar asked, looking up at his oldest brother.

"No, he won't take them because he's a pain in my ass. I don't know why. Guess he thinks he's 'too tough' to need this level of pain medication," Sig explained, rolling his eyes. "Must be a 'guy thing' or something."

"Sig, we're both guys and I'd take them if I was in as much pain as Norman is."

"So would I...so I take my statement back. Must be a 'Norman' thing, then."

"Are you guys talking about me?" Norman called from the steps, "I heard my name. Stop whispering about me."

Sig yelled back, "No, we're not talking about you. Not everything is about you, Norman. Mind your own business."

"I heard my name, damn it," Norman grumbled from the steps, finding the courage for step number two.

Edgar laughed, then he whispered, "Like the nurse said, he is one of a kind."

"Yes, and we are both blessed to have him as our brother," Sig said quietly.

Edgar stared hard into his brother's eyes, trying to determine if Sig was being sarcastic or serious. Sig stared back, looking at the uncertainty in Edgar's eyes.

"I love him, kid," Sig whispered suddenly, a little surprised the words just slipped out. Feeling like he needed to explain, he added, "I know it doesn't look like it all the time, the way the two of us act together, but I do, Edgar. I love him very much." Sig's eyes filled up with tears. _What the hell? Where are the tears coming from? I didn't think I had any left after I got out of the shower._

Before he could stop them, two fat tears rolled down both sides of Sig's face and he had to turn away, putting the note pad down on the counter. With the back of his hands, he wiped the tears off and closed his eyes. _This is completely unexpected. Get yourself together, Sig. I'm just tired. It's the exhaustion catching up with me._

"So," Sig continued, not looking at Edgar, "In the event he does ask for the painkiller, he only gets one pill. No more. Here are all the important phone numbers. You have my number at work. I'll leave written instructions on what to make for breakfast and…"

Sig was stopped mid-stream by a smaller hand taking him by the arm and gently turning him around. Edgar stood on his sneaker-clad tip-toes and put his arms around his oldest brother's neck, pulling his head down to his narrow shoulder.

Edgar whispered in his oldest brother's ear, "He loves you, too."

Sig accepted the first hug from his youngest brother that he himself did not initiate. He buried his head in Edgar's shoulder and wrapped his arms around his brother, lifting him slightly off the floor.

"Dad should have talked to him, Sig. Why didn't he? Norman looked so hurt when he hung up," Edgar asked in a whisper.

"He doesn't know what to say," Sig said. _God, I wish things could be different._

"Maybe you should tell Norman how much you love him."

"I didn't read that anywhere in his home-care instructions."

Edgar playful punched his oldest brother in the back. "Come on. You should tell him."

"He already knows, Edgar."

"You should still say it."

"Norman wanted to hear it from dad. I can't make up for that. I'm not him."

"That's why you should say it."

Sig put his little brother back down to the floor and released the hold. Looking at the baby-fine, whiskerless skin, Sig said, "It's not like Norman makes it easy. Every time someone tries to have a real conversation with him about…emotional stuff…he tends to waylay the conversation with something else."

"Like baseball?"

"Yep, like baseball…or girls…or his truck…or whatever is on his mind," Sig said with a nod.

"Must be a 'guy thing,'" Edgar said with a smile.

"Maybe. But this little brother of mine," Sig said, putting his hand on the back of Edgar's head, stroking his hair, "I can tell this little brother 'I love you' any time I want."

"Sig, can I tell you a big secret?" Edgar asked shyly.

"You scare me when you start out like that but, yes, you can tell me anything."

Edgar's voice was barely above a whisper. "If I tell you this," he said, a little humor and mischief in his voice, "I'll be breaking the little brother code."

Sig's eyes grew wide. Deciding to play along, he whispered back, "There's a little brother code?"

"Yeah," Edgar said, running his hand along Sig's arm, "You don't know about it because you're the oldest."

Sig put his hand over mouth and looked shocked, "You're right, Edgar. I have always been the oldest. So, I won't know about the secret code."

Edgar looked around, pretending to be scooping the kitchen for hidden microphones. "I'm not sure if I can tell you this," he whispered.

"Will you be thrown out of the little brother's club if they find out?" Sig asked, trying so freaking hard not to laugh.

Edgar nodded, "Who knows what they'll do to me."

"It could be awful, Edgar. Are you sure you want to tell me?"

Edgar pondered the possibilities. Teasing his brother with his silence, Sig finally gave in.

Grabbing his brother's arm gently, he begged, "You gotta tell me, Edgar. I have to know."

"Ummm, I'm not sure…"

"Please, I promise I'll never tell anyone you told me. Even if all the little brothers of the world come to this house and threaten me with the most painful torture devices known to man, I'll keep your secret. Cross my heart," Sig said, making the designated sign of promise over his chest.

Edgar gave in. How could he resist the crossed heart? "Ok, come here," he said as he pulled on Sig's arm.

Sig bent down so Edgar could whisper directly in his ear. _Hopefully the hidden microphones won't pick this up. _

Edgar nuzzled his nose against Sig's temple and said, "ALL little brothers need to hear that their big brothers love them."

Sig stood up straight and looked at his youngest brother for a full minute. As much as Edgar was teasing, it was true statement. "Guess that includes Norman, doesn't it?"

Edgar nodded slowly, "Yes…it does."

Sig folded his arms across his chest, "And now that I know this secret information, I'm honor-bound to follow it, right?"

"Yep," Edgar said, flashing his movie-star quality smile.

Sig puffed out his chest, "Did you just trick me into telling Norman I love him?"

"Oh, no," Edgar exclaimed innocently, although his smile read guilty, "I would nevvver do that to MY big brother."

"Really, is that part of the code, too? You little brat…" Sig said, grabbing Edgar and tickling his ribs.

Edgar started laughing and screaming, trying to catch his breath.

"What the hell is so funny?" Norman hollered from the third step. _I'm dying here and you guys are laughing like morons. Nice to know you care._

Sig stopped and yelled back, "We're planning on what we're gonna do after you go to bed."

"Yeah," Edgar yelled through the house, "We're gonna order two large pizzas with extra peperoni and eat it till we're stuffed."

Even Sig blanched at that tease, "Oh, Edgar, that was a good one." Yelling himself, Sig added, "With root beer and those dippy bread stick with the delicious marinara sauce."

"I hate you both," Norman yelled.

"See, you were wrong, Edgar. He hates me," Sig said, his hands up in the air in mock surrender.

"He's in pain. I shouldn't have teased him," Edgar said, feeling pretty bad he gave into the temptation. Norman was just such an easy target right now. It was hard for a little brother to resist.

Sig and Edgar looked around the corner and into the living room. Norman was leaning over the railing, still trying to get up the steps and pain etched across his face.

"Come on," Sig said, pulling his youngest brother with him, "He needs help. We got him down the steps. Now we gotta get him back up."

Edgar smiled, following his oldest brother. _No matter how much of a pain Norman will be this week, I won't have it any other way. _

_~tbc_


	32. The Big Brother Code

_**Special thanks to a wonderful beta who's been a great support.**_

_**Also special thanks to supergirl for the encouragement.**_

**Warnings****: The usual. Exceptionally long chapter – sorry but hope it's worth the read.**

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews and support out there. **

* * *

Sig watched Norman gingerly try to take the next step up the stairs. Norman's huddled body posture was difficult to witness. _Why can't he just ask for help?_ Coming up behind his stubborn, 'I'll do it myself' brother, Sig gently put his arm around Norman's lower back. "Come on, tough guy," Sig spoke quietly, "Let's get you to bed."

As much as Norman wanted to resist, he wanted his bed more and gave into the offered help. _Otherwise I'll be on the steps all night_. Letting his older brother support some of his weight, Norman was able to hobble up the steps.

With his stomach grumbling, Norman finally made it to the last step. "Are you guys really ordering pizza?" he whined like a child, not caring one bit how he sounded. _I want pizza, too_

Sig turned around over Norman's shoulder and looked sadly at Edgar. If Edgar really did want pizza, Sig would have waited for Norman to go to sleep and driven to Pizza Hut to get it. Luckily, Edgar quickly shook his head, indicating that pizza was not anything close to what he really wanted.

"No, Norm," Edgar said as they got to the top of the stairs, "No pizza. Not without you. I was only teasing ya."

"That was mean, Edgar," Norman complained, "Stay nice. Don't get like Sig."

Sig laughed, rolling his eyes and guiding Norman to his room.

"Well," Edgar said slowly and with meaning, "We are related." Edgar flashed Sig a hidden smile just between the two of them.

Norman smiled to himself. _Sometimes my little brother can be such a smart ass, using my own words against me. _

"Look," Edgar said excitedly, gently pushing his way past Sig, "We redid your room, Norman." Edgar flicked on the light in Norman's room, illuminating the lovely ladies on the wall, and made a grand motion to the bed and TV.

Leaning against the door frame of his bedroom for support, Norman looked around his own room and didn't know what to say. The gesture was small but kindhearted and he was a tad surprised his brothers thought to do something like this. _This is something mom would have thought of_. Finally finding his voice, Norman said simply, "Thanks, guys."

Sig gave his brother a short but firm squeeze around his back before leading Norman to the edge of his bed. "We thought you'd feel more comfortable having the TV in your room. Got you some books, too," Sig said, waving a hand over to the nightstand.

Norman picked up one of the books. "Christine by Stephen King," he said out loud as he inspected the cover.

"It's about a car," Edgar said proudly, "I picked it out."

"Looks interesting," Norman said as he put the book back down. Just leaning over to the nightstand was difficult and he winced a little.

"Let me get your shoes off," Sig said quickly, kneeling down and slipping the sneakers off before Norman had a chance to protest. _I hate seeing him in pain. God, I wish he'd take something for it_.

Norman watched helplessly as his older brother slipped off his shoes. _Is this how pregnant women feel? Helpless and can't even bend over to take off their shoes? Jesus, I'm too tired to care anymore. Who knew how exhausting the stairs could be?_

Edgar asked quietly, "You want anything, Norman?"

"Yeah, a cheeseburger. You got one of those, kid?" Norman smiled.

Sig hooked each sneaker around his thumbs, placing them back in the closet next to the boots, "Even if he did, he couldn't and WOULDN'T give you one." Sig gave Edgar a stern glare and then turned back to Norman, "Don't give the kid a hard time tomorrow. Please? For me? Just behave yourself. I don't want to spend the day at the docks worrying about you guilting our little brother into bringing you things you can't have. Then he'd feel terrible and I'd come home and kick both your asses."

Norman looked abashed, "I'd never do that Edgar, Sig. Come on, get real."

Edgar put his hands on his hips, "Really? You tried to trick me into giving you candy at the hospital. And…before that…you tried to talk me into taking Sig's car keys and driving you…."

Norman started waving his hands frantically, silently begging his little brother to shut up.

Sig nodded his head slowly, "Why, thank you, Edgar. You just reminded me of something."

"Of what?" Edgar asked, always pleased to help, even if it was by accident.

Sig spoke directly to Edgar as if no one else was in the room. "To take Norman's set of car keys with me to work. Just in case anyone…" Sig glared at Norman out of the corner of his eye, "…gets any ideas."

"Jesus, you're really not gonna let me drive for the entire week?" Norman sluggishly got up from the bed, "Aren't you taking this a little too seriously, Sig?"

"No, I'm following directions. And so will you, tough guy. You have my word on that," Sig said firmly, "Now where are you going?"

"To brush my God damn teeth and take a piss. I think I can handle that on my own so do NOT ask me if I need help," Norman griped as he shuffled off to the bathroom, too tired to even think about taking a shower now. _Tomorrow._

Hearing the bathroom door shut, Sig sat down heavily on the bed and gave Edgar a sympathetic look, "It's gonna be a long week, kid."

Edgar shrugged his shoulders, "I don't care. I'm just happy he's home."

Sig smiled. Whispering, he said, "So am I."

"Sig, you haven't eaten anything since breakfast. Aren't you hungry?" Edgar asked, concerned. He couldn't help but notice that Sig looked exhausted and Edgar was starting to get worried that he'd soon have two sick brothers on his hands instead of just one.

"No, I'm too tired to eat anything. All I want to do is go to bed. I have to get up early for work tomorrow," Sig said as he ran his hands over his face.

"Do you want some tea or something?" Edgar asked, inching his way over to the bed.

Sig saw the concerned look on his youngest brother's face. "Don't worry about me, Edgar. Please, I've been through worse. Remember when dad took me fishing last summer for the short run trip?"

"Yeah."

'Well," Sig explained, "Dad didn't let me sleep for four days straight. I thought I was gonna die. But he just kept saying I needed to get used to it if I was serious about being a crab boat captain someday. You know him, 'you can sleep when your dead.' Apparently, all captains have to go days and days without sleep. So, I'm not complaining."

"You're not a captain, yet," Edgar said defensively, doing a lousy job of hiding the hurt in his voice from the reminder that Sig wouldn't be around after this summer.

"Maybe not a crab boat captain, but I'm the captain of this crazy little ship right now," Sig said as he waved his hand around, indicating to the entire house, "And believe me, I'm getting more training than I ever expected." _Yeah, like how to manage finances, take care of sick deckhands and make life-altering decisions. Sounds just like a captain to me._ "Maybe Norman would like some tea, though. Go ask him."

Edgar muttered an "OK" and left the bedroom, shoulders slumped and his hands shoved in his jeans pockets.

Sig watched Edgar go and sighed. _I can't stand that look he gets every time I mention anything about leaving. It's like a knife in my heart. But dad can't do this forever and someone has to manage the family business. Who's gonna pay for Edgar's college tuition if dad gets sick? The Old Man has already been warned he's pre-diabetic and he still doesn't take care of himself. No, I have to go in September. I have to do what's best for this family and hanging around here, working some dead-end job at the docks, isn't what's best for anyone, including Edgar. I hope someday he'll understand all that instead of seeing it as another person that he loves leaving him._

Knocking gently on the bathroom door, Edgar asked Norman if he wanted some tea. Norman heartily accepting that particular offer without hesitation and Edgar headed off down the stairs to the kitchen.

Sig stood up and pulled back the covers of Norman's bed. He even fluffed the pillows, which he got caught doing by the owner himself. "What, planning on taking a job as a candy stripper?"

"I think they're called 'candy stripers,' Norman," Sig laughed as he looked up from the bed.

"Either way, you'd suck at it," Norman said as he gently pushed his brother out of the way. With a deep sigh, Norman sat down on the bed, turned and laid down. "Ahh, the silk superman sheets. I remember these."

Sig watched his brother try to lift his legs onto the bed but the action asked a lot of the sore stomach muscles. Without asking, Sig gingerly lifted both of Norman's legs and placed them gently on the bed. Then, he pulled up the covers and sat on the edge of the bed next to his brother.

"Gonna tuck me in, too?" Norman asked, looking up at the tired, blue eyes staring back at him.

"Would you like me too?" Sig asked, head cocked to the side.

"You really would, wouldn't you?" Norman asked, rolling his eyes. He settled into the pillows, placing his hands on his chest over the warm duvet.

Sig grew quiet. "How are you feeling?" he asked seriously.

Norman didn't like that tone, the serious one Sig gets always when he's worried or anxious about something. _Yeah, that something is me. Stop worrying._ "Dude, if you're gonna ask me that every fucking minute for the next week, I'm going back to the hospital," Norman stared down his older brother.

Sig bit at his lip a little, not really knowing what to say or how to say it. He started wringing his hands and felt the cold, gold ring against his left palm. Looking down at it, an idea crossed his mind. Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, Sig slipped off his class ring. He twirled it once in his hand. Then, he quickly grasped Norman's right hand and slipped his ring on Norman's right ring finger. _Perfect fit._

"Now I don't need to ask. When you're feeling completely better, you give it back," Sig nodded his head towards the ring.

For just a stolen second, Norman closed his eyes and pretended. He pretended it was his own class ring on his finger. The 1985 class ring he was unlikely to get without mom around to remember the little things; the important, little things that mean everything.

Opening his eyes, Norman found a whole lot of love in the tired, blue eyes looking down at him. It was overwhelming.

"Does this mean we're going steady?" Norman asked sarcastically and pushed away the mushy feelings bubbling in his chest.

"Don't freakin' lose it or I'll kick your ass," Sig said as the tender moment faded. _So much for telling my brother I love him._

Too tired and just needing to rest for a few minutes, Sig took off his shoes and climbed over Norman, careful to avoid touching him. Taking the other half of the bed, Sig lay down and stared up at the ceiling.

Norman wasn't surprised his older brother was lying next to him. The two of them used to lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling and talking for hours when boredom got the best of them. Mostly, this happened when they were both grounded for one thing or another and there was nothing left in the house to clean or fix.

"Your boss is a real peach, by the way," Sig mentioned.

"Oh shit, Sig," as the realization dawned on Norman that he couldn't go to work, "Did he fire me?" Norman's voice was shaky, worried that he just lost the best summer job he'd ever had.

"No, he'll hold your job till Friday," Sig murmured, feeling his body giving into the pure exhaustion. He folded his arms over his chest, just like Norman, and closed his eyes.

Norman played with the class ring on his finger. He had to admit, to only himself, of course, he LOVED how the ring felt on his finger. "Thanks…for talking to him. I know he can be a real asshole," Norman said softly.

"Hey," Sig said suddenly, rolling on his side and facing his brother, "Don't push yourself, Norman. If you're not better by Friday, I'll talk to him or something. Don't worry about work, ok?"

"Need the money. You know that," Norman whispered up to the ceiling. He sensed his brother was looking at him but he didn't look back.

Sig laid back onto the pillows. "Well, don't worry about it. Just get better. That's your only job this week. That and not giving Edgar a hard time."

"Is the kid ok?" Norman asked quickly.

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

"No, something's off with him. Not all the time but sometimes he seems very sad and almost…distant…since you got sick. What do you think? Am I imagining it?"

"Did he tell you about the dream he had?" Norman asked quietly, hearing the tea kettle finally whistle from the kitchen.

Sig nodded, "Sort of. I overheard him telling you something in the hospital."

Norman couldn't wait to get this off his chest. "The kid was jabbering on about mom being in his room and waking him up, telling him to come check on me. He seems convinced it really happened. He said she touched his check and he felt it, actually felt it. And he said he could smell her perfume when he woke up. Do you think…he's…"

"What?"

"Seeing things? Like a crazy person?" Norman asked, sharing his deepest worry.

Sig snorted a laugh, "Jesus, no. Edgar may be a lot of things but crazy's not one of them. Maybe there was something…in his room."

"Ok, now you're crazy. It was just a dream, Sig," Norman shifted to try and get more comfortable.

"You don't know that, Norman," Sig said, again turning on his side and looking at his brother, "Mom loved us, you and me…" Sig paused, waiting for a response.

Finally, Norman nodded slightly. He didn't know why, but it still really hurt to talk about mom.

Sig continued, "…but mom had a special relationship with Edgar. She loved him something fierce. God, she was protective over him. Maybe because she felt she had too."

"Wonder why?" Norman looked at his brother out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, I know. We were tough on him. But mom sheltered Edgar, kept him close to her and gave him so much affection. I think that's why he's so innocent."

"Ha, not all the time."

"No, but sometimes. He's exactly like mom. Affectionate, loving, trusting and only sees the world as a good place. Jesus, he even looks like her and has her eyes. Shit, sometimes, when he's looking at me with those green eyes, I…"

"Don't, Sig," Norman stopped him, "Don't, please. Just shut up." Norman didn't want to think about his mother's eyes; those green eyes that were exactly like the ones downstairs, pouring the hot water into the tea cup.

Sig rolled back over. "I'm just saying maybe there's a connection between the two of them that we don't understand. Like maybe love that strong can never really go away."

The elder brothers laid in bed, completely silent, thinking about that last sentence. The last clear thoughts Sig had before falling asleep were of wind chimes and fallen sweaters. _I believe you, kid._

By the time Edgar brought up the tea, Sig was sound asleep.

"Shhh," Norman said as Edgar walked in the room, carrying the hot tea carefully and without spilling it. Norman pointed over at a sleeping Sig and then gestured for the hot tea as he sat up slowly.

"Is he ok?" Edgar asked after his oldest brother as he handed over the tea.

Norman smiled inside. _Wonder how much we secretly ask each other if the third one is ok._ "He's beat, kid," Norman said, feeling the heat coming from the tea cup, "He's too big for you to move, I can't lift him and I ain't wakin' him either, so he can stay here."

"Norman?" Edgar asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

Edgar looked at his oldest brother, still fully dressed and sound asleep in Norman's bed. "Can I sleep in here, too?" Edgar asked hopefully.

"There not enough room in the bed, Edgar. Not all of us got queen size beds," Norman said with meaning, referring to the overly large bed for the smallest Hansen in the bedroom next door.

"I can sleep on the floor. I don't mind. I won't be a bother," Edgar said softly. _I just want to be with you guys._

"Edgar," Norman whispered with a sigh, "You're never a bother, ok? Now, I'm the 'bother.' Ok, go get changed and get your blankets…quietly." Norman added the soft command as Edgar almost ran out of the room.

Norman listened to the commotion in the room next door and smiled. _The kid thinks it's a slumber party_. Sipping his hot tea and wishing he would have waited to brush his teeth, Norman flipped on the TV using the remote. He kept the volume low as not to wake his brother and absentmindedly watched the news. _Maybe this ain't so bad after all. A TV in my room that I don't have to share, people waiting on me hand and foot. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I'm gonna hate this._

When Edgar appeared back in the room, blankets and pillows in hand, Norman asked, "Kid, hand me my watch off the dresser."

Edgar dropped his things on the floor, retrieved Norman's silver watch and handed it to his brother. Norman put his tea down on the nightstand and took the watch, setting the alarm for five o'clock in the morning. Then he hooked it onto his wrist next to hospital bracelet he forgotten to take off.

"You brush your teeth?" Norman asked, going back to his tea.

"Not yet," Edgar said as he quietly went about arranging his blankets on the floor. When he was done, he left Norman's room and headed to the bathroom.

Norman listened to the bathroom water running and closed his eyes. _My own room. In my own house. With my brothers. God, I'm glad to be home. Now that…I like very much. _

Finishing his tea, Norman placed the mug on the nightstand and turned off the TV. He waited for Edgar to come back.

When the youngest Hansen arrived, Norman asked him to turn on the light in the hallway and turn off the light in the room. These tasks completed, Edgar lay down in his makeshift sleeping bag on the floor. He was directly next to the bed on Norman's side, lying on his stomach with his head facing the bed.

Norman turned and looked down, seeing his younger had scooted as close to him and the bed as possible while on the floor. Reaching his right hand down, Norman stroked his brother's shaggy head.

Edgar closed his eyes and wondered why it felt like Sig was stroking his hair as opposed to Norman. He looked up, grasping Norman's hand gently and staring at a ring that was quite familiar.

"You got the ring," Edgar whispered.

"Didn't even have to take a spanking, either," Norman whispered back, almost sounding a little proud to be wearing the coveted ring. In truth, he was extremely touched by his older brother's gesture. He knew exactly what this ring meant to Sig as well as the symbol it had turned into over the last few weeks between his brothers; love, trust, concern and compassion. Now, those things were being extended to him and it meant more than any words could ever say.

"Geez, Norman, what you went through was a hundred times worse than a spanking. You get to keep it till you feel better?' Edgar asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, which hopefully is real, real soon."

Edgar looked hard at the hand coming from the bed. "Fits perfectly," he whispered. _In more ways than one. Like your own will someday…I hope._

Norman went back to stroking the shaggy hair, "Yeah, I may not give it back."

"I better get it back," Sig grumbled, half asleep, "Come on, go to sleep, both of you. Some of us have to work tomorrow." Sig rolled over on his side, facing away from Norman. _God, I'm too tired to get up and sleep in my own bed. That's the best excuse I can come up with because I want to stay right where I am._

"Goodnight, Ed," Norman whispered as he withdrew his hand.

"Goodnight, Norm. Glad you're ok," Edgar stated softly as he drifted off.

_Me too._

_Me too._

* * *

Sig woke up to a watch alarm going off in his ear. Opening his eyes, Sig saw Norman leaning over, holding the offending watch next to Sig's ear and smiling an evil grin.

"Turn that fucking thing off," Sig yelled as he pushed Norman's arm away from his head.

"Time to go to work, honey," Norman stated in a high pitched voice, turning off the watch alarm, "Have a great day."

Sig cussed in Norwegian and carefully got out of the bed, almost stepping on Edgar in the process. The kid didn't move, still asleep and wrapped up like a caterpillar in its cocoon. As he gathered his wits, Sig watched Norman shifted over to the center of the bed and fall back asleep. _Can't I just stay here? They look so comfortable. _

With a depressed sigh, Sig navigated his way over the sleeping teenager and out of the room. He quietly closed the door behind him. Turning off the hallway light, Sig went into his own room. The sun was rising and the day promised to be one of the hottest of the summer so far.

Finding his tan, Dickie work pants, his brown belt, his work boots, a t-shirt and his button-down blue shirt, Sig got dressed and made his bed from the previous night. Teeth brushed, hair combed and all bathroom needs addressed, Sig went downstairs and turned on the coffee pot. He found a blank sheet of paper, a pen and sat down at the kitchen table.

As he listened to the coffee drip into the glass carafe, Sig wrote his note.

**Edgar,**

**All the instructions are on the note pad by the phone. Everything you'll need is on the counter. Make sure he takes one blue and purple pill with breakfast and one with lunch. Also, he has to put the ointment in the gray tube on his stitches – let him do that himself cause he won't want help so don't even bother to offer. Say nothing and save yourself from listening to the smart-ass comeback. **

**For breakfast, give him plain toast and bananas. For lunch, instant, plain rice (follow the instructions on the back of the box) mixed with grounded meat and applesauce (there's a jar in the pantry). Only tea and water. DO NOT let him talk you into ANYTHING else. He can get a shower tomorrow. NOT today.**

**If he gives you a hard time, remember what I told you when we were at the store. **

**NO ONE is allowed over to the house today. This includes Amanda, any of Norm's friends or any of your friends. Norman needs to rest and I don't want anyone disturbing him. He can have visitors tomorrow, maybe, if he feels better. Try to keep the house quiet. **

**Call the dock master if you need anything. They'll come and find me. I left my work number in case you forgot it. The doctor office's number is also by the phone if you have questions. **

**It's going to be ****very**** hot today. Leave the AC on. Don't worry about yard work. **

**Good luck,**

**Sig**

**P.S. Just do your best. **

**P.S.S As per the 'secret code,' I love you. **

**P.S.S.S Destroy this note…it's now incriminating evidence. (Do NOT burn it – or play with any fire). **

Sig laughed as he re-read his perfect handwriting. He wished there really were hidden microphones in the house so that he could hear some of the interesting conversations that were undoubtedly going to go down today. He left the note on the table and put the pen back by the phone.

Sig made himself a quick lunch, packed it in a brown bag and grabbed an orange off the table. _What I really want is my morning cigarette. No…promised my brothers…and I'm sticking to that promise._

Looking over the pills and instructions one last time, Sig checked the medication in the packets. He counted both sets of pills. Adding up the ten white Codeine pills, he placed them back in the packet. He had to chuckle to himself. _Ok, let's see if the tough guy breaks down and gives into the pain. Now he can't hide it from me._

Pouring coffee into his travel mug, Sig grabbed both sets of car keys from the hook and left the house, locking the door behind him.

* * *

Edgar woke several hours later. Norman was still asleep. Quietly taking his blankets and pillows, Edgar left the room.

Remaking his bed, Edgar got dressed for the day and went downstairs. The house was quiet except for the low hum of the central air conditioning. Walking into the kitchen, Edgar found the note written in his oldest brother's unmistakable handwriting.

Edgar read the note and laughed at the post scripts. All the instructions seemed so simple. It was no problem not to have friends over as he didn't have many left, except Matt and a few others from school. Amanda, on the other hand, would likely barge her way in if she could. Edgar crumpled up the note and tossed it in the trash, laughing to himself about any little brothers from the club finding it at the city dump

Finding his favorite cereal, Edgar made himself breakfast and watched his favorite morning cartoons in the living room. After waiting close to an hour, Edgar decided he'd have to wake up Norman to get him to take his medication.

Setting up the folding tray, Edgar placed fresh toast, hot tea and a dish of sliced bananas as a meager offering to the hungry muscle man asleep in his bed. Trying to make the situation better, Edgar stuck individual toothpicks into each banana slice, arranging the plate to look like a smiley face. He used the toast as ears. Then, he carefully set one blue and purple pill in a Dixie cup and shoved the ointment tube into his back pocket.

_Here goes nothing,_ Edgar thought. Screwing up his courage, Edgar cautiously carried the tray up the stairs and knocked on Norman's bedroom door before opening it with his foot.

Norman was snoring away. Edgar paused for a moment and then called his brother's name.

A stir, snort and finally pain-filled blue eyes were the response. Norman winced immediately, the soreness seemed worse today. His vision clearing, he spotted food of some kind and that motivated him to push himself up to a sitting position with the back of his hands.

"Bacon?" Norman asked hopefully.

With a look of regret, Edgar set down the tray over his brother. "Toast," was the quiet reply.

Norman looked crestfallen as he stared at the tray. Edgar had to look away, wandering over to the window and opening the blinds. "Gonna be hot as hell today," Edgar mentioned.

Squinting from the light, Norman looked as his younger brother standing at the window. Then he saw the smiley face on the tray and laughed, "Cute, kid…very cute."

"I know it's not what you wanted but it's what Sig said to give you," Edgar was already on the defensive.

Norman picked up a banana slice by the toothpick and swirled it around, "But Sig ain't here, is he?"

"Doesn't matter," Edgar said as he crossed his arms in front of him, "I'm in charge now and what I say goes."

"Ohhh, looks who's getting feisty," Norman said as he popped the banana into his mouth, "Where's my sweet little brother who'll do anything I say?"

"I can be tough when I have to be," Edgar said firmly.

"Then you're a true Norwegian, kid," Norman said, "But sometimes you have to be more than just tough. Sometimes you gotta put your money where your mouth is."

"What da ya mean?" Edgar asked.

Norman chewed on the dry toast, pretending it was juicy, salty bacon, "Sometimes you have to do more than just shoot your mouth off to get your point across."

"Are you talking about fighting?" Edgar asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Norman almost bit his tongue. _Damn it. Way to shoot my own mouth off. Guess this is as good a time as any, considering I'm stuck here_. "Yes, Edgar," Norman chewed slowly, "Sometimes you have to fight…" Norman pointed the toast at him, "…but only when it's completely necessary."

"And when is that?" Edgar asked in a curious voice.

"If someone takes a swing at ya, you have every right to defend yourself. Don't buy into that crap about 'turning the other cheek' cause then you'll be labeled a wuss and only get beat up worse. Take your shot and let the chips fall where they may," Norman advised.

"So, it's ok to defend myself," Edgar asked for clarification.

"Yes, defend yourself but don't start the fight, just finish it. It's always better to walk away before it gets physical so you don't need to worry about it. But some guys you may run into won't let you walk away and just want to fight cause they like it. A fist to the face is all they'll ever understand," Norman said as he popped another banana slice in his mouth.

"Is that why you fought that kid in middle school? Because you were defending yourself?"

Norman thought about that question, "No, I was defending someone else."

"Was it a girl?" Edgar said, a romantic look in his eye.

Norman chuckled, "No, just someone I care about. And I got in a lot of freaking trouble for it so if you're gonna fight, make sure it's worth it."

"Was it worth it? All the trouble you got in defending someone else?" Edgar asked.

Norman didn't need to think about it, "Yes, little brother, it was worth every minute of it." _And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. No one will ever hurt my family_.

"Well," Edgar said as he got up, "You don't need to worry about me getting in trouble for fighting. I can't even throw a punch."

"Sure you can," Norman exclaimed, "Show me."

"How?" Edgar put his hands in the air.

"Just stand there and pretend to punch someone."

Feeling very self-conscious and slightly ridiculous, Edgar stood the in middle of the bedroom and pretended to give his best shot. It helped that he imagined Elliot was right in front of him.

Looking back at Norman, Edgar flashed a bright smile. Norman only stared at him in shock.

"Ok," Norman said carefully, "First of all, what the hell are you doing? Never tuck your thumb in under your fingers. You'll only break your thumb and get your ass beat. Second, your feet are all wrong. Spread them apart."

Edgar did as he was told.

"Put your right foot a little in front of your left and balance your weight. All your power comes from your feet, kid. Stand up straight and protect your face with your fists."

Edgar felt like some kind boxer, like the guy in the Rocky movie. Surprising, it felt right.

"Always kept your eyes open. Never kick a guy when he's down. No low blows. Aim and punch," Norman explained simply.

The punch was still pathetic and had no "oomph" to it.

"Come here," Norman said gently.

Edgar's shoulders slumped. He obviously wasn't getting it. Walking over to the bed, he noticed Norman hadn't taken the antibiotic yet. "Take your medicine, Norm," Edgar said, pointing to the pill.

"Fine," Norman grumbled, swallowing the pill with his tea. "Now take the tray away and sit down."

Edgar did as he was told, setting the tray on the floor outside of Norman's room. He came back and sat on the bed, wondering for a minute what was in his pocket. Reaching back, he took out the tube of antibiotic cream and handed it to his brother.

"You have to put this on your stitches," Edgar said softly, still disappointed he failed the punching lesson.

Norman took the tube and put it down next to him on the bed. Turning back to his forlorn-looking brother, Norman took Edgar's right hand and forced it into a fist. Then, he placed it against the palm of his hand, the class ring facing back at him with all its brilliance.

"Edgar," Norman said quietly, "If you're gonna punch someone, you need to make up your mind long before the punch that you're gonna do it. It can't be a half-hearted thing. You have to mean it here (Norman shook the small fist), and here (he pointed to Edgar's head with his left hand), and here (he pointed to Edgar's chest, over his heart)."

Edgar looked down at the blanket, "I just don't know if I could hurt someone…for real…you know?"

Norman took his left hand and tipped Edgar's chin up so they were looking at each other. "Edgar, not me, not Sig, not any good guy ever WANTS to hurt somebody. But there are a lot of guys out there who are NOT nice guys and they won't blink twice before they hurt someone. You have to be able to defend yourself and the people you care about. That's what being a man is all about. Now punch my fist, as hard as you can. You won't hurt me."

Edgar withdrew his fist, "I don't want to do this anymore." All Edgar could think about was the guys at the Shack. _They are some of the NOT nice guys Norman is talking about. And I didn't have the heart to defend myself when they attacked me at the house. I just ran, like I always do. But, I can defend the people I care about…in my own way. Maybe that counts for something_.

Norman stared at the sad look on his brother's face. "You wanna see my stitches," he asked excitedly, trying to get his brother to smile by changing the subject.

"Yeah, of course," Edgar said, curiosity of getting the better of him.

Norman pulled back the blankets. Pulling up his shirt, he lowered the waistband of his sweats and heart-covered boxers and revealed several sets of ugly, black stitches located on his right side.

"Ooww," Edgar hissed, "They look painful."

"They are but these aren't the first set of stitches I've had," Norman said as he picked up the tube of ointment, "You wanna touch 'em?" he teased his brother.

Edgar pulled away, "No way. Will they leave scars?"

"Probably," Norman spread on the cream gently, "Chicks dig scars so it'll be cool if they do." Norman winced as he touched the tender area.

Edgar winced with him, "You hurtin' a lot? Do you want the pain pills?" Edgar's voice was so laced over with concern, Norman regretted showing him his stitches.

"No, thank you," Norman stated firmly as he replaced his clothing, "I'd have to be hurting a lot more than this to take those things. Can you get me a towel from the hallway?"

Getting the requested towel, Edgar handed it over to his brother and watched as Norman wiped off his hands. Norman handed the towel back and Edgar took it to the laundry hamper in the hallway. The hamper was overflowing with clothes, sheets and towels.

Edgar came back in the room and took the tea cup from last night off the night stand. "You want anything else?" he asked Norman.

"A shower!'

"Tomorrow."

"Ahhh, come on. I stink," Norman grumbled, sniffing his own armpits. He just couldn't get the hospital smell out of his nose. "Come on, pleasssse?"

Edgar turned to leave.

"Where you going?" Norman asked quickly.

"I have to take the dishes downstairs and start the laundry. There's other things I gotta do too…like my chores and yours," Edgar explained with a bright smile, "Not everyone in this house can lie around all day."

With that, Edgar left. Norman called after him, "It's not like I wanna be stuck here." Picking up the book by Stephen King, Norman began reading and tried to keep his mind off feeling guilty about Edgar doing all the work. By page ten, Norman was hooked and all guilty feelings were forgotten.

* * *

Around eleven o'clock, Edgar had completed almost all his chores and made a quick sandwich for himself. After eating his own lunch, he made Norman's and brought it up to him along with his noon-time medication.

Norman was halfway through the book and had lost track of time so he was somewhat surprised to see lunch coming through the door.

"Hey, Edgar," Norman asked, "Why'd you pick this book for me again?"

"I thought it was about a car. You like cars," Edgar said as he carried the tray over to his brother.

"Not this car," Norman said with wide eyes, leaving the book on his bed.

"Is the book not good?' Edgar asked.

"Oh no, it's freaking awesome. Might give me nightmares for a week but it's awesome," Norman looked sadly at his lunch.

Edgar sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, "Books are a pain to read." Leaning over, Edgar turned on the TV and watched The Price Is Right while Norman ate his lunch.

Between bites, both boys guessed the prices and were horribly wrong most of the time. Norman was very excited that someone won a brand new truck playing Lucky Seven. "I coulda done that," he grumbled, knowing full well how much a new truck ran these days.

Halfway through the bonus round, the house phone rang. "If it's Amanda, tell her to come over with a McDonald's Happy Meal and a chocolate milkshake."

"Amanda's not allowed over today. No one is. Captain's orders," Edgar hollered as he reached the phone in the hallway.

"Hello," Edgar said into the receiver.

"Hey," an oldest brother answered back, "How are things going?"

Edgar could barely hear his brother's voice. There was so much background noise, beeping, whistling, banging and lots of guys yelling, Edgar wondered if Sig was calling from a war zone. The fact that Sig was able to call at all was shocking. Usually, the guys weren't allowed to use the phone during work hours. Sig must have gotten special permission.

"Things are fine," Edgar hollered back.

Norman wondered if great-grandmom Hansen was calling from the nursing home in Philadelphia. _Why else would Edgar be screaming into the phone?_

"You got my note?" Sig yelled over the noise, holding his hand over his free ear.

"Yes."

"Is he behaving himself?"

"Mostly."

"Who are you screaming at, Edgar?" Norman called from his room.

"Just hold down the ship till I get back," Sig yelled.

"Roger that."

"I'll be home around five. Heat up the soup from Saturday night. It's in the refrigerator."

"Ok…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"…I'll see you in a little while, Edgar."

"I know…"

"…Gotta go. They only gave me a minute."

"Ok, be safe."

"Love you."

Edgar cracked a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon. _He said it. Unlike dad, he said it. Over the phone. In a rush. And he managed to say it anyway._

"Love you, too."

"Edgar, who the hell are you talking too?" Norman hollered from his room.

Sig and Edgar said goodbye and Edgar hung up the phone. Coming back into Norman's room, he took away the tray of empty plates.

"Who was that?" Norman demanded to know.

"Sig," Edgar said simply.

"From work…no way," Norman pick up his book.

"Way!" Edgar hesitated and then said quietly, "He must be very worried about you to call from work."

Norman pretended to ignore the comment and opened up his book.

Shaking his head, Edgar placed the tray outside the door. _I don't understand my brother sometimes. Why can't he just acknowledge that people love and care about him?_ Edgar looked at the tray and noted that Norman took his medication

"You want anything else?" Edgar asked as he came back into the room.

"I'll give you a million bucks if you'll bring me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich," Norman pleaded, bottom lip protruding, "Pleeeassse."

"No."

"Come on," Norman whined, "just one sandwich. I'm soooo hungry."

"No!"

"I'll let you drive the truck in the parking lot after hours," Norman begged.

"I'm leaving," Edgar said as he started walking out of the room.

"Just say with me. That's what I really want," Norman said quietly and without looking up, "Go get your book and come read with me."

Liking that request much better, Edgar went into his room and retrieved his book off the desk. Carefully climbing over his brother, Edgar and Norman read quietly for some time. Norman noticed that in the time it took him to read ten pages, Edgar had only gotten through one.

Putting the book over his chest, Norman closed his eyes for a while. His eyes were starting to hurt and he felt tired all of a sudden. Before long, he drifted off to sleep. Edgar looked over and saw his brother napping. As quietly as he could, he slinked off the bed, shut Norman's door and went downstairs, taking his book with him.

He was about to read in the kitchen when he heard a soft knock at the back door. Edgar hesitated, not sure if he should answer. The knock came again and he had to answer before the noise woke his brother.

"Hey Ed," Matt said, standing on the back porch and holding Edgar's soccer ball which had been left out in the rain.

Edgar went out on the porch and shut the door behind him, "Hey, Matt. What's up? Did you ride your bike all the way over here?"

"Yeah, it's fucking hot out but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. You want to kick the ball around?" Matt asked as he bounced the soccer ball like a basketball.

"I can't," Edgar said, grabbing the ball because the sound was driving him crazy, "My brother's sick and I'm not allowed to have anyone over."

"Which one?'

"Norman. He had surgery yesterday. His stomach almost exploded."

Matt's brown eyes grew wide, "That sucks."

Edgar nodded his agreement, "It was bad."

"Sig's not home?"

"No, he's working."

"Then come on," Matt said as he tried to knock the ball out of Edgar's hand, "We'll play in the yard for a little while. Come on…we'll be quiet."

Edgar debated this offer. _It's not like I'm letting anyone in the house. We'll stay outside. Norman is sleeping. The AC is on so all the windows are shut and we won't wake him. I'm sooo bored and just want to hang out with someone my own age for a while. Sig will never find out. It's not that big of a deal anyway._ "Just for a little while, Matt, then you gotta go home," Edgar said, throwing the ball over the porch and into the yard.

The young boys played for over an hour, working up a sweat and getting covered in mud and grass, remnants of the recent storm. Edgar had fun for a change and forgot about the trauma of the past few days.

Deciding enough time had gone by, Edgar put the soccer ball back in the shed and told Matt to go home.

"Come on, Ed," Matt wiped the sweat off his forehead, "Can't I have a cold soda or something first? I got a long ride home."

"Fine," Edgar said, feeling thirsty himself, "But wait out here."

Edgar went into the house, leaving the backdoor open and washed the mud from his hands. Before he knew it, Matt was standing in the kitchen.

"Ahhh," Matt said loudly, "The air conditioning feels freaking awesome."

"Shhh," Edgar said, "Damn it, Matt. You're not allowed in."

"I'm just standing here," Matt said as he drifted over to the counter, "Can I wash my hands before I leave?"

"Ok, but be quick," Edgar whispered as he rooted around the open refrigerator, looking for two cans of root beer.

As Matt washed his hands, he noticed the two white pill packets on the counter. One clearly read "Codeine" in orange. "Your brother must be in a lot of pain if the hospital gave him Codeine."

"How do you even know what that is, Matt?" Edgar asked from the fridge.

"I know stuff," Matt said defensively, "You know Jake Harris?"

"Yeah, he's that kid at school who always comes to class high," Edgar muttered as he found the root beer.

"Yep, that's the guy," Matt said as he dried his hands, "He told me you can get a buzz off stuff like Codeine."

Edgar looked over the refrigerator door, anger flashing in his eyes, "I don't know what you're implying, Matt, but my brother ain't taking drugs to get high. They're for his pain, not that he's even taking them for that reason." Edgar's hand was still wet from the sink and one of the root beer cans slipped out of his hand, exploding onto the floor.

"Damn it!" Edgar exclaimed as he watched soda fizz out and get all over the kitchen floor. As he panicked, Edgar put the other can on the table and went for the mop in the pantry.

With Edgar occupied, Matt looked at the packet of pills. It was an overwhelming temptation and, in the end, he couldn't resist. _Who's gonna miss one pill_?_ I just wanna try it._ Lightening fast, Matt slipped the packet into his hand, turned the envelope on its side and let one pill fall into his hand. He slipped the pill quickly into his short's pocket.

Turning back around, Matt saw Edgar trying to clean up the mess. "Edgar, let me help you with that," Matt said quietly, reaching for the mop.

Edgar pulled the handle closer to him. "No, you have to go. Take the soda can on the table."

"Ok," Matt said quietly, a moment of guilt hit his chest. Edgar was his best friend and he just stole from him. _Well, technically I stole from his brother. But this could get Ed in trouble_. Unfortunately, it was too late to put the pill back without Edgar seeing it.

"I'm sorry, Ed…for the mess."

"Don't worry about it," Edgar sighed, "It's not like Sig's gonna holler me for spilling soda on the floor. He's not like that."

"Nick's not like that either," Matt said quietly, not sure if Edgar's statement had a hidden meaning or if he was just playing around.

"I was kidding, Matt. I didn't mean nothing by it," Edgar said as he put the bucket under the hot water, "I'll see you another time, ok?" Edgar started mopping the floor.

"Yeah, maybe you can sleep over my house this weekend. It's my weekend with mom," Matt said with some frustration in his voice. He hated being bounced around between his parents like a soccer ball.

"I'll ask Sig this week and let you know."

"See ya, Ed," and Matt left the house, riding home in the heat of summer.

* * *

After cleaning up the kitchen, Edgar was covered in soda, sweat, mud and grass stains. He quickly pulled the container of leftover "Storm Soup" from the refrigerator and started warming it on the stove. It was getting close to five o'clock and he went upstairs to take a shower. Peaking in Norman's room, Edgar gave a sigh of relief that his brother was still out cold.

Disposing of his dirty laundry, Edgar grabbed clean clothes and towel and headed to the bathroom.

* * *

Matt arrived home exhausted from pedaling his bike in the heat. Seeing his older brother's car in the driveway, Matt assumed Nick came home early from work. Putting his bike in the open garage, Matt came through the side door of the house and found Nick making dinner.

"Mom home?" Matt asked.

Nick shook his head, "No, she has to work late at the diner. She's pulling another double."

"Again? Mom's never home anymore. All she does is work!" Matt said angrily.

Nick took a big sigh before answering, quelling his own anger towards what seemed like an ungrateful kid. He was sympathetic to his little brother's feelings because Matt didn't really understand. "Someone's gotta pay the bills, Matt. Mom doesn't want to work all the time but she has too. It's just the way things are now," Nick explained gently.

"You mean now that dad's remarried and has a new family!" Matt spit out with a venomous tone.

Nick concentrated on slicing the carrots into small pieces and tried to ignore the pain and anger in his brother's voice. Dad had stopped paying child support when he got married and mom was struggling financially, trying to help pay for Nick's college tuition and all the household bills. But Matt didn't know that. All he knew was that dad seemed too busy to visit and mom was gone all the time.

Brushing off his brother's statement, Nick waylaid the topic of dad. "Go get a shower, Matt. You got mud all over your face and knees. Dinner won't be for a while yet," Nick said flatly.

"Whatever, Nick," Matt tossed out as he headed upstairs.

Nick let the disrespectful answer go. He should have corrected the kid but he couldn't do it. The fact was he felt terrible for his brother. _No kid should ever feel like he's been abandoned by his father and replaced with step-kids that aren't even his._ _How do you explain to a kid that their father is just infatuated with his new wife and her kids and he'll wise up eventually…I hope? _

Matt stomped up the steps and to his room. He slammed his bedroom door and ripped off his clothes. He was so furious at his father and the rest of the world, he completely forgot about everything else. Leaving the dirty clothes on the bedroom floor, he grabbed a clean pair of shorts, slamming the dresser drawer shut and went to get a shower. Just for good measure, he slammed the bathroom door shut, too.

Nick flinched at all the slamming. _I should go talk to him but I just don't know what to say. Matt's right. How can I defend my father's actions when I know he's wrong?_ Feeling like he should at least try, Nick left the dinner preparations for later and went upstairs.

The shower water was still running and Matt's bedroom door was open. Nick spotted the dirty clothes on the floor. _Jesus, will this kid ever pick up after himself_. Nick picked the clothes up off the floor and walked them to the hamper. Checking the pants pockets for any pieces of gum sure to ruin a load of wash, Nick was surprise to find a small white pill at the bottom of the right side pocket.

Staring hard at the white pill in his hand, Nick made out the small indentations that read 'Codeine' in tiny letters. Nick closed his palm over the pill, almost crushing it in his anger. Flakes of Codeine stuck to his skin and it took every ounce of patience and energy for him not to crash through the bathroom door and throttle his little brother.

Instead, Nick deposited the dirty clothes in the hamper and calmly walked down the hallway, back to Matt's room. He sat on the edge of Matt's bed, pill in his closed fist and waited.

A few minutes later, Matt walked back into him room and found his older brother sitting on his bed. Hair dripping and wearing only his shorts, Matt reached for the t-shirt drawer of his dresser.

He froze in mid-reach when Nick held out his fist, releasing his fingers and holding out the flat palm of his hand. A white pill rested in the middle of his palm.

"What…the hell…is this?" Nick's voice was cold and Matt shuddered. Maybe it was the air conditioning on his wet skin that made him start to shake.

Matt stared at the pill and then back to his brother's face. Nick looked strange, like he had a baseball caught in his throat.

"Answer me!" Nick raised his voice.

Matt didn't know what to say. He didn't even know why he took the damn thing. All he could do was to stand in the middle of his bedroom and stare blankly at his older brother.

Nick jumped off the bed and grabbed his brother by the arm, shaking him slightly, "Answer me, God damn it!"

The rough touch and angry voice were too much and Matt immediately started bawling. He blurted out everything so fast, Nick could barely understand him. Matt cried and hiccupped his way through the story, blubbering on about Jake Harris at school, an exploding soda can and just not thinking.

Matt was trying desperately to explain that he regretted taking the pill the minute he put it in his pocket but that it was too late to return it. He pleaded with Nick to believe him when he said he change his mind about trying to get a quick high and that he was going to throw it away when he got home but he forgot about it.

"Have you EVER gotten high before?" Nick yelled.

"NOOO, I swear," Matt pleaded, "It was just something I heard about in school from Jake…"

"Yeah, yeah…Jake," Nick shook his brother, "I don't give a shit about Jake. We're talking about YOU. Have you ever done any kind of drugs, Matthew?"

"No, sir," Matt looked directly into his brother's eyes. _I never have._

"So why start now?" Nick asked quietly.

Matt bowed his head, unable to meet his brother's gaze anymore. He didn't know the reason.

Nick was finding some of the story difficult to believe. "Why didn't you just throw the pill away on your way home?" he asked.

Matt's shoulders shook as he spoke, "I..I don't know…what if someone saw me drop it…like a cop or something. Or…some little kid…picking it up by accident…thinking it was…candy."

"Well, that just tells me you knew how dangerous and illegal it is to have someone else's medication in your pocket!" Nick yelled, making his brother cry harder.

"I know…I know, Nicky, please," Matt begged, "Please don't be mad at me."

"Jesus, Matt," Nick said softly, "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how stupid this was?"

Matt sniffled, "I know I fucked up."

"Watch the language, Matt."

"I'm sorry," Matt cried hard, tears running down his face.

Nick tried to control his temper but it was a losing battle. "For what?" he hissed, "The language? Stealing from someone who's sick and in pain? Thinking about getting high? Putting your friend in a situation where he can get into a lot of trouble? Exactly what part of all this ARE you sorry for?"

"ALL OF IT," Matt screamed through his tears. If Nick hadn't been holding him by the arm, he would have crumbled to the floor. "Please, Nick…please…I'm sorry."

"Get dressed," Nick said as he pushed his brother away from him. Matt stumbled towards his dresser. "We're taking a drive."

"Where we going?" Matt's voice was shaky as he tried to find a t-shirt out of his dresser. The task was difficult as he could barely see through the water pooling in his eyes and running down his face.

Nick's voice was unemotional, "We're going the Hansen's. You're going to return this (Nick shook his fist in his brother's face) and then you're gonna apologize."

"You gonna punish me when we get back?" Matt asked meekly, trying to put on his shoes but struggling with the knotting of the laces.

Nick closed his eyes and took a deep sigh. He came up with a plan and prayed to God it would work. _Something has to get through to this kid because this is the second time he's stole and now he's thinking about getting high. What's next?_ "I don't know, Matty. I'm going to leave that up to Sig. He's the one you stole from so if he wants to do the punishing for your actions, so help me God, I'll let him."

Matt's head shot up, his eyes wide with fear. "You'd let Sig…give me a…lickin?"

Nick glared at his younger brother, "It's either him or me. I'll let him decide since anything I say doesn't seem to get through to you. Maybe he'll have more luck." _Oh God, Sig, call my bluff on this one. Oldest brother to oldest brother, please know this is a just scare tactic and nothing else._

Matt was in a state of shock, his tears turning into a deep fear. He didn't need to think about what kind of punishment Sig would hand out. Edgar had told him plenty about the strap his father kept in the kitchen. In Matt's mind, there was no doubt Sig would use it on him if he decided to take Nick up on the offer. Sig was incredibly protective of both his brothers and Matt had stolen from Norman and put Edgar in a terrible situation. _He's gonna kill me._

"Please, Nick, don't. You do the punishing." Matt begged. Matt knew he was in for it either way but he would have much rather had someone that loved and cared about him punish than someone he hardly knew.

"No, Matt. You have to take responsibility for your actions," Nick said in a cold voice. _Kid's scared to death. I should feel terrible for him but I don't. What if he had taken the pill and gotten high? And liked it? Then what; pot, coke, acid? No, let him be afraid now. Maybe it will make the difference next time he is faced with the same kind of temptation_.

Matt finished tying his shoes, stood up and threw himself in his brother's arms, pleading with him to reconsider. Nick's heart was breaking and, as much as he was trying to be a hard ass, he heard himself consoling his little brother.

"Matty," Nick said as he hugged his brother close, "I'd never let anybody abuse you. I won't leave you. Whatever happens, I won't let it be more than you can handle or more than you deserve." _And, hopefully, I'm the one that's doing it._

Nick hugged his brother for a few more minutes, then took his hand and led him out of the house and into the car. Matt cried quietly the entire trip over to the Hansen household.

* * *

Around the time Nick and Matt were having their conversation, Sig opened the backdoor and entered the kitchen, relishing the air conditioning that wafted through the house. Work had been a nightmare and he felt like he just labored 16 hours in a sweatshop. Even the ocean breeze did nothing to cool off the heat of the day and Sig repeatedly considered jumping off the dock, fully clothed, and taking a swim during his breaks.

It was good to be home. The kitchen smelled like a mixture of delicious soup and lemons. Sig noticed the floor was spotless and the place was clean as a whistle. _Edgar must have been bored_.

Checking the soup and giving it a stir, Sig's eyes wandered over to the packets of pills on the counter. First, he checked the antibiotics and was glad to see two were missing. _Good job, kid_. Then, he checked the painkillers and found only nine pills instead of ten. _HA HA, Norman, all talk. Gave in to the pain. I'm sooo glad he finally took one. Hope he got some relief today_.

Heading upstairs to change his sweat-soaked shirt, Sig heard the shower water running. _That better be Edgar and not Norman. I specifically said no shower today for him. _

Sig knocked on Norman's door before entering. Hearing Norman grumble something about coming in, Sig opened the door and found his brother rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The Stephen King book had fallen on the floor and Sig picked it up, putting it on the nightstand.

"Hey, I'm sorry, tough guy," Sig said softly, realizing he had just woken his brother from his nap, "I didn't know you were sleeping."

"What time is it?" Norman asked, a little confused.

"About five. I guess I had to wake you anyway. It's almost time for your next antibiotic. Guess what?" Sig asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What?" Norman's voice sounded groggily.

"You get soup for dinner."

"Rather have steak."

"I know but soup's better than toast and rice, Norman."

"Man, I feel like shit," Norman said as he sat up slowly, "I've never taken a nap that long." He rubbed his hands over his cropped hair and tried to shake off the cobwebs in his brains.

"It's the Codeine, dude," Sig said with a smile. _Ya, I know. Can't hide it from me._ "One of the side effects is drowsiness. I guess it's supposed to help you sleep more comfortably so you can heal faster. I don't know. I'm just glad you took one," Sig said as he touched Norman's arm lightly. He wanted his brother to know that it was ok to get comfort for the pain, even if it was medically induced.

"Sig, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. You were out in the sun too long. I didn't take any pain pills. Never will," Norman shook his head. The pain in his stomach had not lessened and entire area still seemed just as tender and sore as this morning.

Sig stared down his younger brother. _Please just be lying to me for the sake of looking tough_. "Norman, seriously, it's ok if you took one," Sig said gently.

"Sig," Norman looked in his brother's eyes, "I did not take a pain pill today."

"There's one missing. How is there one missing, then?" Sig asked, sounding a little bit desperate. _I'm sure there's an explanation for this. Maybe Norman knows_.

"I don't know," Norman said quickly, pushing his brother's hand off of his arm, "Maybe the hospital miscounted. Now, go get me my soup."

"No, Norman," Sig said slowly, shaking his head back and forth, "I counted myself this morning. There were ten. Now, there's nine."

"Sig, who cares? There could be a hundred down there and I still won't take one," Norman said as he reached for the TV remote.

Sig pulled the remote further out of Norman's reach. Norman whined and looked at his brother like he'd just slapped him. "Gimme," he said, reaching out for the remote.

Sig dropped the remote on the floor. _Apparently, Norman doesn't seem to understand the situation or have any information that's gonna help me_. "Was anyone else in the house today?" Sig asked as Norman tried to lean over and grab the remote off the floor.

"Not that I know of. Gimme the remote, asshole."

Norman got stuck leaning over the bed and was unable to lift himself back up. He whimpered a little and Sig absentmindedly assisted his brother back on the bed. "Norman," Sig said slowly and with meaning, "If no one was in the house and you didn't take that pill, then who did?"

Almost on cue, the shower water shut off in the bathroom. Norman and Sig stared at each other without a word between them. They listened to Edgar coming out of the bathroom and into his own room, shutting his bedroom door and opening and closing his dresser drawers. Sig and Norman continued to stare at each other, trying to read the other one's thoughts.

"He would NEVER do that," Norman whispered, his voice strained and almost broken. Norman had finally gotten it.

"I'm sure there's some kind of explanation," Sig whispered back, nodding like he was trying to convince himself and the world.

"HAS to be," Norman said with conviction.

Sig closed his eyes, grabbed Norman's hand for just a second and then called out, "EDGAR!"

A second later, Edgar's bedroom door opened and he came around the corner, shaggy hair towel dried and swinging wildly about his head.

Sig gave the kid the most brilliant smile. Edgar smiled back.

"Hey, you're home," Edgar said gladly, "Now you can deal with this guy." Edgar pointed his thumb at Norman.

"Did he give you a hard time today, kid? If so, I'll kick his ass." Sig said as he turned his back towards Norman and looked directly at Edgar.

Norman nudged his oldest brother's butt through the blankets with his foot. "I was very good today, I"ll have you know. I took all my medication. Put on the stinky cream. I followed all of the stupid orders and ate the same food we gave the dog when we got him fixed. What exactly happened to me in the hospital, anyway? I can still have kids, right? And I didn't even take a shower, even though I stink to high heaven.!"

"Is this true?" Sig smiled at Edgar.

"Well…" Edgar said slowly, glaring at Norman. He paused, torturing their middle brother. Finally, he nodded his head, "…Yes, he was good." Edgar flashed Norman an enormous smile.

"Edgar, one of the white pain pills is missing. Do you know where it went?" Sig slipped the question in as casually as he could.

"No," Edgar's heart stopped for a second. _But I can take a guess. MATT!_

"Did you touch those pills today?" Sig asked quietly.

"No," Edgar's hands started to get sweaty and his heart started pounding.

"Then how did one go missing?" Sig asked in an even tone.

"I don't know," Edgar whispered. _Yes, I do. Matt took one when my back was turned._

"Did you swallow one of Norman's pills?" Sig asked hesitantly.

"No!' was the very quick reply, made with full eye contact.

"Was anyone over the house today?" Sig asked, his own heart rate increasing.

Edgar stared blankly at his brother. _I have to lie. If I tell the truth, I'm in trouble for disobeying my brother. And, if I tell the truth, Matt could get into a lot of trouble for stealing. He's the only friend I've got left. Tomorrow, I'll call him and beg him to get rid of it. Hopefully he still has it_.

While Edgar was mentally struggling with the answer, Sig watched his youngest brother's hand make its way up to his face. Edgar likely didn't even realize the motion. A lie was coming and all those hands of poker just paid off. Sig let the kid make his own mind if he was going to tell the truth or be dishonest.

"No, no one was here," Edgar said, rubbing at the small scratch on his face.

Sig closed his eyes. _He went with the lie. DAMN IT!_!

Forcing on, Sig asked, "Then how did one of the pain pills go missing?"

"It fell down the drain," Edgar said, looking past his brother and out the window.

_Ok, here's a lesson for ya, kid. One lie just leads to another which leads to another_. "How'd that happen, kid?" Sig asked.

Edgar's mind was spinning, "I…accidentally picked up the wrong pills. When I realized it, one slipped out of my hand and fell down the drain."

Norman groaned, putting his hand over his eyes. _Stop, kid. You just backed yourself into a corner. _

Sig ignored the groan from the bed, "Well, kid, how could that be? First you told me you didn't touch those pills today. Now you're telling me you did and you accidentally dropped one down the sink. Which is it or do you need to think about it some more?"

Edgar stared at his oldest brother, his shoulders dropping. Sig gave him a sympathetic smile. Edgar almost broke down and cried right then and there. "It fell down the sink. I was afraid to tell you," Edgar whispered, his eyes pleading for his brother to believe the lie.

"No, Edgar, now I know your lying. You would never be afraid to tell me something like that," Sig said with finality, openly accusing his brother of dishonestly. It hurt to make the accusation but Sig made it anyway.

Rubbing at his face, Edgar all but disappeared into the floorboards.

"Come here," Sig commanded gently.

"Sig," Norman whispered in a cautious voice, unsure of what was about to transpire in his bedroom.

Sig ignored Norman again. Without hesitation or fear, Edgar approached his oldest brother and stood directly in front of him, between his knees, as Sig sat up straight on the edge of the bed. Edgar's chin was on his chest and he stared at Sig's tan work boots.

Looking at the top of the wet, shaggy hair, Sig sighed inwardly. Then, he took both of his brother's hands in his own and shook them a little. Grasping them gently but firmly, Sig spoke to his brother in his softest voice possible.

"Look at me," Sig said above a whisper.

It took a second but Edgar complied. The green eyes, so like his mother's, held such confusion and sadness. Sig held his brother's hands, rubbing his thumb over Edgar's knuckles and hoping the physical contact between them would help calm his brother's racing pulse.

"Let's start over, ok?" Sig said.

Edgar nodded.

"You know all those times when I tell you to go easy on the "sirs?"

Edgar nodded slowly.

Sig smiled, "This would NOT be one of those times. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Sig smiled, maintaining full eye contact, "I'm gonna ask you some questions and I want you to be honest with me. We'll just forget that other conversation just happened," Sig reached up and touched his brother's cheek, "If you have to lie to me, Edgar, say nothing."

"Sig…" Edgar said desperately.

Sig interrupted him, "No, I don't want any lies. Nothing hurts me more except when you hurt yourself. I know you don't know what to do right now because I can see the confusion on your face. You're trying so hard to do the right thing. So just listen to my voice, trust me and we'll figure it out together. Can you do that?"

Edgar only nodded.

Sig grasped both hands again, "Verbal answers from now on."

"Yes, sir."

Norman watched this exchange in total awe. He never knew until that moment how gentle and patient his older brother could be. _Jesus Christ, Edgar, he's giving you a second chance. Fucking take it._

"Did you take one of Norman's pills?"

"No, sir."

Sig believed him. There wasn't a shadow of doubt in his mind. Edgar would never steal and he would never take something that was designed to ease his brother's pain. Even if Norman said he'd never take them, Edgar would never take the chance and risk leaving Norman in pain if he really needed them.

"Do you know what happened to the missing pill?"

"No, sir." _Technically, it's not a lie. I don't. I'm only guessing._

Sig could only guess this was true as well. _Maybe the kid doesn't know what happened. That leaves open only one possibility. How does Perry Mason do this all the time?_

"Was anyone in the house today?"

Dead silence.

"Ok," Sig said after waiting a full thirty seconds for a reply, "Someone was here. Someone you're protecting because, chances are, they took the pill. Maybe you know they did or you just suspect they did. Which is it?"

Silence.

"And I know one of the only reasons you would lie would be to protect someone," Sig explained gently.

No answer.

"Edgar, I promise you if you tell me the truth right now, things will be much easier for all of us. Did someone take one of Norman's pills, kid? Even if you think they might have, just tell me, please. "_ Oh God, Edgar please just tell me. _

Norman prayed the kid would make the right call because this was the third and likely final chance Edgar was gonna get.

_My brain is screaming to tell the truth. My heart tells me to protect my friend. He's a good guy who just made a mistake._ _All kids make mistakes._ The youngest brother went with the body part he felt the closest too. "I dropped it down the sink."

Sig's shoulders slumped and his heart sank to his knees. For the first time since that fateful night at the Shack, Edgar saw that same look cross his oldest brother's face. _I made the wrong choice. Should have gone with my head. Too late._

Norman sensed that Sig just checked out. Nudging his older brother with his foot and hoping to send the message, Norman tried a different tactic. "I took the pill, Sig."

Both Sig and Edgar's heads shot up and turned to their middle brother. "What?" they said in unison.

"Yeah, I didn't want to admit it but, I took it," Norman said softly.

"That's a lie, Norman," Edgar said forcefully, "You didn't take any pain pills today."

"Maybe I did. Who knows?" Norman said ominously.

"Don't lie for me," Edgar said, pulling his hands away from his oldest brother and wrapping his arms around Norman's neck gently, "Don't lie to protect me."

"Why not? You're doing the same exact thing for someone else." Norman looked around his youngest brother's head and over to Sig. He gave his older brother a wink.

Edgar pulled back away from Norman and looked him in the eye. It was true and there was nothing he could say.

The three Hansen brothers sat in silence for a few minutes. As Sig was about to order Edgar to his room, there was a knock at the back door.

Edgar flew out of the bedroom and down the steps before either brother could stop him. The youngest Hansen was just grateful for any excuse to get out of there. _The look on both their faces…it was too much. God, I've screwed up_.

Back upstairs, Norman looked at a broken brother sitting on the edge of his bed. "I'm hungry," he whispered, trying to break Sig out of his trance.

"Who do you think was in the house, Norman?" Sig asked as he stared out the window.

Norman shifted his weight, trying to find a comfortable spot, "Don't know. Could be anybody? Maybe that girl he likes. What's her name? You know, the little blond from the hardware store."

"Beth, I think," Sig bit his lip and turned his head towards Norman, "Jesus, that's the last thing we need; some angry papa coming to our door and accusing us of supplying his daughter with drugs."

Just then, Edgar called softly from the bottom of the steps, "Sig, Nick and Matt are here and they want to talk to you."

Sig and Norman stared at each other as they heard their brother call. The look that past between them read 'how could we/you have not figured that out – you're an idiot.'

"Looks like you just got your answer," Norman said.

"Should I be grateful?" Sig asked, frustration and anger now seeping out of him. Mostly, he was angry and frustrated with himself for leaving the medication on the counter to begin with. _Fucking stupid, leaving a thirteen-year-old kid in charge of something like that. What the hell was I thinking? I should have just given the pills to Norman and let him keep them in his room. Guess I'm not perfect after all_.

Norman didn't respond. He knew better.

Sig leaned over, picked up the TV remote and tossed on Norman's chest. "I'll send the kid up with food," he said flatly, "Keep him up here…with you…till I call him down for dinner."

Norman wiped his hands over his duvet, "Sig, what are you gonna do?" The trepidation in Norman's voice made Sig want to cringe.

"I'm going to talk to Nick, eat dinner and get a shower. That's as far as I've planned, Norman. Just leave it that." With that, Sig left and headed downstairs.

As Sig approached the kitchen, he found Nick and Matt standing by the backdoor, Edgar was stirring the soup and his back turned to his guests. His brother's rude gesture didn't help Sig's mood. _Edgar knows better than to ignore guests, regardless of the reasons they are here. _

"Nick," Sig said as he walked over to him and offered his hand, "How are you?"

Nick gave Sig a firm handshake, "Good, Sig. Sorry to hear about your brother. Hope he's feeling better."

"He is, thank you," Sig pulled back his hand, "Matt, how are you? Good to see you."

Matt only shrugged his shoulders, keeping his eyes on the floor and practically standing on top of his brother, he was huddled so close to Nick's side.

"Matthew, someone asked you a question," Nick warned as he looked at the top of his brother's head.

"Fine, sir," Matt said, "Thank you." Matt still didn't look up but his voice was clear.

The fact that he just got called 'sir' was not lost on Sig. Clearly, Matt saw him as the current man of the house. _Well, I guess that's true. Just wish it came with putting my feet up when I got home, reading the newspaper in my lounge chair and having an ice cold beer sitting next to me. But no, I have all responsibility and none of the rewards, including the beer…or a smoke._

"Do you guys want to sit down," Sig gestured to the table, "You can have dinner with us. Just soup but it's homemade, delicious and there's plenty."

"Thanks for the offer, Sig, but we came to return something," Nick said, walking over to the kitchen table and placing a small white pill in the middle of the dark, brown wood. The bright, solid pill stood out against the dark color and the swirls of designs. "I believe this belongs to you."

Edgar spied the motion out of the corner of his eye and he turned around slightly to look at the table. Then he looked over at Sig, expecting him to also be looking at the table. But Sig wasn't looking in that direction. Instead, the cobalt blue eyes were looking directly at Edgar.

"I dropped it down the sink," Sig whispered in a hush.

Edgar turned away quickly, staring into the soup and wishing he could climb into the pot and dissolve away. Sig stared at the back of his brother's head, refusing to look at the table and the hard evidence of his brother's lie.

"Matthew," Nick placed his hand on his little brother's back, a nonverbal gesture to start explaining and apologizing.

Matt swallowed hard and raised his head. Crying quietly, he repeated the story from the time he stopped over the house until the time he left on his bike. He left nothing out, including coming into the house uninvited and sharing all his temptations, foolish decisions and immediate regrets.

Nick looked at the kitchen floor, too ashamed of his brother's actions to look Sig in the eye.

Edgar kept stirring, each word that Matt spoke sealing his own fate. _You screwed me over and I still protected you. I thought you were my best friend. Geez, I'm an idiot_. Anger and hurt at the betrayal took over and the youngest Hansen stirred the soup into a mini-whirlpool of chicken, potatoes, carrots and whatever was left in the house that day.

Finishing his tale, Matt explained passionately, "Edgar didn't know, sir. Honest, he didn't. He had no idea I stole one of Norman's pills."

Sig just closed his eyes. _Yes he did. He figured it out ten minutes ago but he lied to cover your ass and his own._

"I'm sorry, sir," Matt whispered. Then, he looked past Sig and over at the back of Edgar's head. "I'm sorry, Edgar," Matt started sobbing, "I…wasn't…thinking. I'm so sorry. You're my best friend. I never meant…"

Matt buried his face in his hands and sobbed loudly. The sounds of sobs echoed in the kitchen. Edgar ignored him, refusing to turn around and acknowledge the apology.

Sig couldn't help but feel terrible for the kid. As much as Matt wanted his forgiveness, he wanted Edgar's more. Still, his youngest brother remained silent and Sig was getting annoyed. _Don't you dare withhold your forgiveness when you'll be begging for mine the minute they leave_.

"Ed…gar," Sig drew out the name as a warning.

Edgar knew what his brother wanted. As angry as he was, he put the ladle down on the counter and turned around. The sight of his best friend sobbing into his hands, his shoulders raking, dissipated most of his anger. Edgar couldn't remember ever seeing Matt cry like that. "It's ok, Matt. No hard feelings, ok?" Edgar said softly.

"I'll understand if you don't want to me my friend anymore," Matt mumbled into his palms.

"You've been my best friend since Kindergarten, Matt," Edgar said simply, "Stuck with me even though I didn't hang out with you much lately. We'll always be friends...no matter what."

Some of the tension in Matt's shoulders relaxed and he managed to look up. Edgar gave him a small smile and Matt smiled back through his tears.

The relationship mended, Sig knew he had his own forgiveness to extend. But first, he had to take care of Norman. "Nick, excuse me for a minute," Sig said as he turned his back and grabbed the tray off the counter. Edgar figured out what was happening and quietly took a bowl from out of the cabinet. The Hansens quickly prepared dinner for their hungry middle brother, Sig placing the antibiotic on the tray and Edgar getting a small glass of water and utensils.

Meanwhile, Matt tried to make eye contact with his older brother but was getting nowhere. Nick continued to look at the floor and hardened his heart for what was to come. He couldn't back out now and if he looked at Matthew, he'd crack. Again, he silently pleaded for Sig to call his bluff on this.

Sig handed the tray off to Edgar, also refusing to make eye contact with his youngest brother. That was fine with Edgar because he didn't want to look at the disappointment in those blue eyes again. "Take this up. Stay up there until I call for you," was the quiet, emotionless order.

Edgar couldn't get out of the kitchen fast enough and went back to the room he couldn't get out of fast enough a few moments ago. He forgot his manners and did not say goodbye to his friend or his friend's brother. Sig watched his brother leave without saying goodbye but was too overwhelmed to call him back and remind him. _Just deal with the big stuff. _

After Edgar was gone, Sig turned back to Matt and Nick and was about to formally accept the apology when Nick straightened his shoulders and looked up. _Now's a good a time as any_. "I've spoken to my brother before we came over. If you'd like to have a little 'talk' with him before we leave, I'll wait out on the porch," Nick said, his voice slightly broken.

Sig couldn't understand what Nick was getting upset about but there were things he wanted to say to Matt so he answered, "Yes, I'd like to have a 'few words' with him."

Nick misunderstood and his knees all but gave out on him. _GOD DAMN IT, SIG! IT'S A BLUFF! DON"T YOU SEE? You know, maybe this is for the best. Maybe Matt will learn a lesson he'll never forget cause I just did. I've just learned not to say something unless I was absolutely sure I was prepared to follow thru on it. Now, it's too late because I can't look weak in front of my brother. He'll never trust me again_.

With hands shaking so badly he could hardly control them, Nick reached for the buckle of his belt. Undoing the buckle, he slipped the belt out of the loops and coiled it into something that looked like a cinnamon bun. Leaving it on the table, he turned to leave.

"Nicky…" Matt called softly, his voice pleading as he watched his brother leave.

"I'll be right out here, Matty…" Nick stopped and said as he stared at the back door. There was so much he wanted to say but he had to get out of there before he broke down completely. Leaving with an unintentional slam of the screen door, Nick went out and stood at the top of the porch steps.

The situation was so surreal, Sig was rendered speechless. It all happened so fast, he didn't have time to explain that he literally just wanted to TALK to the boy, not 'have a talk with him.' Looking at Matt, then the open screen door sucking out the cold air, then at the belt on the table and then back to a shaking, thirteen-year-old kid, so like his own brother, Sig was hit with a barrage of emotions.

_WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? Does Nick really think I'd discipline his own brother? Discipline your own brother, for God's sakes. I've got enough to take care of._ Sig walked over to the sink and grabbed a glass of water, trying to calm himself down and stopping himself from going on the porch and punching Nick in the face.

As he drank slowly, Sig looked out the kitchen window. He was surprised to see Nick holding on to the porch pillar, looking out towards the street and his shoulders heaving from silently crying. Sig watched Nick wiping away the tears and his own heart melted.

The realization dawned on him that Nick wasn't the only one that misunderstood. _It had to be a bluff and I missed it. _There was apparently a serious breakdown in communication between elder brothers. _Now, Nick thinks I'll actually go through with it and he's turned his little brother over to me. Obviously, that had to be one of the hardest things the guy has ever done or else he won't be sobbing on the porch. And that's __exactly__ what I'm going to have to do when dad gets home. I'll have to hand my youngest brother back over to him and let dad handle things his way, the old way and have no say, no right to speak up or question him. Figuratively speaking, when dad gets home, it will be ME standing on the porch, sobbing like a baby._

Sig suddenly felt very sick to his stomach and almost threw up, feeling the bile rising in his throat. Sig couldn't think about dad, telling himself dad was a long way from coming home and he pushed the thoughts and the bile back down his throat. _I'll find a way to make this right. Before this summer's out, I'll have to find a way to get through to my dad. _

Hearing a muffled sob from behind him, Sig was brought back to reality. Sig put the empty glass on the counter and turned back around. Grabbing a kitchen chair by its rails, Sig turned the chair parallel with the table and sat down with a deep sigh.

"Come here, Matt," he said gently.

Watching the kid approach slowly, Sig heart ached for him.

Matt eyed his brother's belt on the table, the coils loosening on their own and making a scraping sound of leather against wood. Standing in front of Sig, Matt took a breath like he was trying to suck in courage from the air and he looked up.

"You…want…me…over your…knees?" he asked quietly, assuming Sig sat down for a reason.

_I can't seem to do anything right today,_ Sig almost laughed at himself. "No, Matt, I ain't gonna spank you," Sig explained softly.

Matt looked confused and vastly relieved at the same time.

"If I don't, I'm guessing Nick will?" Sig looked sadly into the brown eyes.

Matt nodded slightly, causing a tear to run down his cheek.

Sig took the liberty and brushed it away. Matt closed his eyes, ashamed of what he assumed Sig saw as weakness.

"I'm sure Nick doesn't want too, Matt," Sig whispered.

Matt only shrugged.

"He doesn't, trust me on this," Sig said with conviction, "But he wants what's best for you and stealing and thinking about getting high is NOT what's best for you. I know you know this."

Matt hiccupped, "Yes, sir."

"Matt," Sig said as he took the kid's hands, "You've always been a good friend to my brother and, God knows, Edgar needs good friends in his life. As long as you can promise me to always be a good friend and try to keep each other out of trouble, you'll always be welcomed in this house. You made a mistake and I'm sure you'll have to answer for it. But I can also see how much you regret it and I want you to know I forgive you. Thank you for telling me the truth. It goes a long way in my book. Like Edgar said, no hard feelings, ok?"

Sig was shocked find himself in a full-on hug from a kid he barely knew except to say 'hi' to as he past him playing Legos on the living room floor with his kid brother. Matt threw his arms around Sig's neck and cried hard. Sig hugged him back, stroking his neck and telling him everything would be ok.

Matt sobbed new tears, promising to be a good friend and going on and on and on about how much he misses his father, that his mother is never home, that he hates his new step-family and that Nick just doesn't understand. Sig just let the kid pour his heart out, knowing that he wasn't the only one listening. The person that needed to hear all this was standing on the porch, waiting to hear the sounds of a well-earned spanking and, instead, hearing what he needed to all along.

_Sometimes it's easier to tell a stranger what's weighing you down then someone you love_. Sig made a mental note to call the number of the professional therapist Dr. Hubert provided at the hospital first thing tomorrow. _Maybe things happen for a reason_. Sig glanced over at the white pill sitting on the table next to the uncoiling belt. _Signs, maybe…who knows?_

When Matt was able to collect himself, Sig picked up the belt and walked the kid out onto the porch. Nick was still crying but tried to hide it well. "Go wait for me in the car," he told his brother without looking at him.

Matt said goodbye to Sig and walked out to the driveway. Sig and Nick watched him go.

Nick turned to Sig, straightening his shoulders and tried to say something but nothing came out.

"Here," Sig said as his handed Nick his belt back, "It was bluff, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Nick let out a grateful laugh, "Guess I should have called you first, huh?"

"I figured it out," Sig laughed, "Although a head's up next time might help. I can't believe you actually thought I'd go through with it."

"I didn't know…now I do. I just wanted to scare the kid. I'd never pass on my responsibilities to someone else. I'm very grateful that you didn't…" Nick said, slightly ashamed and feeling a new level of respect for this older brother.

"This parenting shit sucks," Sig said with passion.

"You don't need to tell me," Nick smiled, replacing his belt through the loops of his jeans, "Guess I'd be better just leaving this off."

Sig ignored the implication, not wanting to think about what was going to happen when Nick and Matt got home. _It's none of my business_.

"I'm guessing you heard," Sig said quietly.

"Yeah," Nick said, turning red from embarrassment that his family's dirty laundry just got aired out to a stranger. "I'm sorry about that. My brother's having a rough time with…everything."

"How are you doing…with everything?' Sig asked evenly.

Nick looked surprised by the question. Then, a look Sig understood all too well crossed over Nick's face. "I'm struggling, Sig," Nick admitted openly.

It was a big leap that crossed a boundary, but Sig said it anyway, "Might help if Matt knew you felt the same way." _Nick can take a swing at me if he wants for saying it but it's the truth. _

Nick took a deep sigh and stared out towards his own car parked in the driveway, "I need take my brother home. There's a lot we have to talk about."

Sig could only hope it was talking and not just 'a talk.'

Nick shook Sig's hand, apologizing for the giant mess that both he and his brother caused and thanked him several times. Sig mentioned something about hanging out together sometime, thinking that he sounded like he was asking Nick out on a date. Nick said he'd give Sig a call this weekend. There was a party happening at a club in town and Nick invited Sig to come along. For a second, Sig felt like a normal young adult.

As he watched Nick and Matt pull out of the driveway, the normal young adult feeling faded. _Now, I have to go deal with my own little brother. _

_~tbc_


	33. Fight Fire With Fire

Edgar arrived with the tray of soup, shutting the door with his foot and placing it in front of his older brother without a word. The central air kicked in and blew a cold breeze throughout the room, fluttering the curtains next to the vent.

Norman watched the tray come in, noticing some of the soup sloshing over the bowl. Maybe the soup became displaced because his younger brother's hands were shaking so badly or maybe it was because someone had filled the bowl to the brim. Either way, Norman was suddenly less interested in food and more concerned about Edgar's unreadable demeanor.

Soup and tray securely spread over Norman's legs and the bed covers, Edgar walked over to the corner of the room and sat down on the floor. Bending his knees, he rested his chin on top of them and played with the hem of Norman's window curtains. Rubbing the skin under his chin along the rough denim of his jeans, Edgar focused on the pattern of the blue and white curtain.

Norman's window curtains, along with every other curtain in the house, had been made by mom on her Singer sewing machine. That machine had created almost every Halloween costume each boy had ever owned, along with patching pants with holes in the knees and letting out hems when things became outgrown. At the current moment, the Singer sewing machine was collecting dust in mom's bedroom, unlikely to ever be used again.

"Soup's good, Edgar. Better than the first time," Norman said from across the room. He did a bang-up job of hiding the concern in his voice and almost sounded cheerful. _Jesus, the kid looks lost._

Edgar shrugged his shoulders, barely acknowledging the compliment.

Norman rambled nervously, "Did you ever notice that certain things taste better the second time around? Like the more they sit, the more flavors they soak up."

Not even a shrug this time. Edgar just kept rubbing.

"Kinda weird, isn't it? Makes you wonder what the hell goes on in the refrigerator when no one's looking," Norman slurped his soup, making overly loud sounds in an effort to get some kind of response from his younger brother. At this point, he'd take an eye roll or scolding for his barbaric table manners.

Edgar still looked lost, rubbing his face against his jeans and the fabric of the curtain between his fingers. Soft, deep voices were coming from downstairs but were too muffled to comprehend.

Norman ate his soup, his eyes wandering into the corner of the room. _Please just talk to me. Talk to me about anything, I don't care. Talk about the weather or the upcoming football season or the pretty blond at the hardware store. Just, whatever you do, stop looking like that because it's killing me_.

Then the soup spoon mysteriously dropped onto the floor or it was conveniently dropped, Edgar would never know. All he could see was the spoon on the floor and his older brother pouting in his bed.

"Spoon fell," Norman said innocently, sticking out his lower lip like a toddler.

_Really, Norman? It just 'fell_?' Without a word, Edgar crawled over to the spoon and picked it up. He reached up and handed it to Norman.

"Eww, it's got gunk on it," Norman sounded like a girl, "Can you wash it off in the bathroom? And while you're in there, bring me the scissors."

Norman finally got an eye roll, which he took as a wonderful sign that the kid wasn't as close to the edge of a meltdown as he thought. Edgar stood up and went to the bathroom, washing the spoon under the sink and finding the scissors in the medicine cabinet. He heard the back door slam and jumped a little, hurrying back into Norman's room.

When he came back, Norman had taken his medication and was smiling proudly, pointing at the empty Dixie cup. Norman reminded Edgar of the chimpanzee he once saw at the zoo.

Edgar ignored the smile and handed both the spoon and scissors to his brother. As he was about to take his place back in the corner and retreat into his own world, Norman cleared his throat. "I need your help. Come here," he said casually.

"What?" Edgar asked quietly, unable to turn away someone in need.

With a wry smile, Norman picked up his bowl of soup and swallowed the remaining contents in one big gulp, no spoon needed.

Edgar's eyes grew wide, realizing he had just been tricked. Still, he said nothing as his brother handed back the tray and motioned for it to be taken away with a wave of his hand. Edgar picked up the tray and placed it on the floor. Then, he watched as Norman used the scissors to cut off the hospital bracelet still encircling his left wrist. As the plastic bracelet snapped off, it fell onto the bed and Norman picked it up like it was coated with poison.

"Toss this in the trash, will ya?" Norman asked as he handed it over to his brother, holding out the bracelet between two fingertips.

Edgar took the bracelet and held it in his left palm. He fingered the white plastic strip in his hand, "You don't want it?"

"Ain't going back there anytime soon. (Norman knocked the back of his fist on his wooden headboard to drive away the evil spirits. Edgar knocked on the wood of the nightstand.) What would I do with it, anyway? I know how to spell my own name." Norman asked. _I'd rather forget the whole thing ever happened. Course the pain and scars will prevent me from forgetting. _

Edgar looked carefully at the bracelet, reading the neatly typed words.

**Norman Scott Hansen**

**DOB: 4/24/67**

**Blood Type: O**

**Allergies: None**

**Room: 709**

There was a bunch of numbers which looked similar to a cereal box label under the information, like his brother was now copyrighted and ready for sale.

Something about having his brother's name on the bracelet made Edgar hesitate to throw it away. Looking up, he asked sincerely, "Can I keep it?"

Norman seemed surprised by the request but replied, "Sure, whatever." He was tempted to ask why but he figured Edgar's had his reasons and left it at that.

Edgar shoved the bracelet into his left jeans pocket and watched his brother place the scissors on the nightstand. Before he had a chance to return to his solitude, Norman reached up and grasped Edgar's hand, leading him to sit next to him on the bed.

"Don't go back over there. We spent enough time hanging out in the corners of this house," Norman said gently. He moved over a little, leaving space for Edgar to sit down and drew him in closer.

Edgar reluctantly sat down, facing his brother. His shoulders dropped slightly but he stayed quiet, staring into the blue eyes so like the ones downstairs that were currently dealing with the mess Edgar tried to hide. The faint sounds of someone crying were coming from the kitchen.

"Matt took the pill, didn't he?" Norman asked, taking a jab at the correct answer as he heard the muffled sobs from the first floor.

Edgar nodded. Norman waited, releasing Edgar's hand.

Edgar looked up towards the ceiling as if looking for an explanation from the lovely lady from above, "How could Matt do that? He's my best friend, Norman."

"You pissed at him?"

"No, I forgave him but it still makes me a little mad that he stole from you," Edgar said openly.

Norman pretended to straighten his covers. "I'm guessing you think it wasn't worth lying for him, then?" Norman asked, feeling out his opponent.

Edgar looked like he was wrestling with his own decisions. After thinking it over, Edgar answered firmly, "No, no matter what, he's still my friend."

Norman took a swing at responding to that answer, extremely grateful that it was him and not Sig hearing this because Sig may have strangled the kid. "Edgar, you lied for him. How can you see that as worth it?" Norman asked quickly.

Edgar shrugged like it made perfect sense, "He's my friend. Of course I'd try to protect him."

"Kid, lying for someone ain't protecting them. If you have to lie for someone, chances are pretty good you're not protecting them at all," Norman explained carefully, feeling pleased with himself for the profound statement and finding a little bounce in his step. _I could do this…this parenting crap. Sig ain't the only one applying for Parent of the Year._

Edgar looked perplexed. "How can you say that, Norman? You and Sig lied for each other all the time to get out of trouble. Then, you lied for me to get me out of trouble. We lied to protect each other a lot."

Norman felt like now he was the one backed into a corner. Fighting his way out, he explained, "Not about the big stuff, Ed. I mean we lied for you when you spilled grape juice on the carpet or forgot to make your bed. I lied for Sig when he left his retainer in his gym locker and it accidentally got thrown away. He lied for me when I came home after curfew because my tire blew out on the way home. This situation is just…different."

"How so?" Edgar asked inquisitively.

Norman sighed, taking aim. "It's different when the person you're lying for could be in a lot of danger. Who knows what could have happened to Matt if he took that pill or gotten caught with it by the wrong person? Didn't you think of that?"

"No," Edgar said slowly, "But those things didn't happen. He wouldn't have taken the pill, he said so himself. Nick found the pill by accident before Matt had a chance to throw it away. If that hadn't happened, Matt would have gotten rid of it and that would have been the end of it."

Norman listened and stared blankly at his younger brother. Apparently, Edgar had lost his footing. "Edgar, seriously, how would that have been just 'the end of it'? You lied to Sig about this. He caught you yet he still gave you another chance to get out of it. But you lied again…and again."

"So, I get a lickin' for lying. Better than Matt getting a lickin' for stealing," Edgar explained with perfect teenage logic.

"So it's worth it…the lickin', I mean?" Norman asked, jabbing the question at his brother.

Edgar didn't hesitate, "Yeah, sure."

"And whatever other consequences might come?" Norman asked, throwing another jab.

Edgar continued to follow with his head, "Yeah…whatever comes."

Norman stopped dancing around and went for the knockout punch.

"Even if those consequences are that you hurt our brother and lost his trust?"

Edgar's face fell as his brother's words registered in his brain. He knew those would be the consequences of actions but, at the time of the interrogation, he had been more focused on taking the heat for his friend and less aware of the long-term effects of his answers.

For Norman, looking at his brother's fallen expression smarted more than his stomach and that particular area still hurt like hell. Still, he didn't regret seeing Edgar absorb the blow. _Better the kid get his head on straight now before Sig talks to him._

"Come here, little brother," Norman said gently as he patted his own chest, hearing the backdoor slam shut again.

Feeling confused and defeated, like an aging prize fighter fresh from the ring, Edgar lay down on the small sliver of bed and rested his head against Norman's chest. He reached his hand up and rubbed at the fabric of his brother's t-shirt.

"I thought I was doing the right thing, Norm," Edgar whispered in the white cotton.

Norman smiled, stroking the damp, brown hair, "I know that, Edgar, and so does Sig. He knows you'd never lie unless you thought you had a good reason. Honestly, I think he was secretly relieved you didn't take the pill yourself. His biggest fear…" Norman paused, then corrected himself, "…Our biggest fear is that something bad might happen to you."

"I'd never take something that was yours," Edgar said quietly, comforted by the soft stroking and his brother's class ring against his hair.

"We know that, too," Norman sighed, "But Sig and I snuck dad's liquor more times than we can count and that was stealing no matter how you look at it. Nobody's perfect. We all give into temptations once in a while. Hence the refrigerator door, which I'll point out, I never expected Sig to lie for me to cover that mistake. Drinking and driving is dangerous and we all know it. If things had been the other way around and Sig was the one who drove home drunk, I would have never lied for him, no matter how hard it would have been for me to tell the truth."

"Even knowing he'd get the strap for it?" Edgar asked quietly.

Norman closed his eyes, answering as honestly as he could, "Yes, I would. As much as I hate seeing my brothers get in trouble, I'd tell the truth on something like that. Just like I told you and Sig how much I hate the smoking because it's freaking bad for you." Growing quiet for a minute, Norman asked hesitantly, "By the way, has he cheated…that you know of?" _I figured he give in by now_.

"He hasn't, Norman, even when we were at the hospital waiting for you to get out of surgery. Even when they made him decide to operate on you and had him sign all those papers. He never left me once to go smoke. He never left either of us." Edgar revealed innocently.

Norman absorbed his own knockout punch. _They forced him to decide because I couldn't. God, that must have been difficult for him. OK, if he sneaks a cigarette at some point, no matter how upset that makes me, I'm keeping my big mouth shut. _

"Sounds like Sig did a real good job taking care of things. You know, you did a real good job taking care of me today, too," Norman said, shaking his brother's hair.

"I messed up," Edgar whispered, only seeing his mistakes and forgetting all the things he did right.

"One bad thing doesn't erase all the good," the words slid past Norman's lips like he had heard them a hundred times before. Mom and her never-ending sound advice invaded Norman's thoughts. _Mom did really know what she was talking about. She's the one who should have won Parent of the Year for the last eighteen years. We were so damn lucky and we never realized it until she was gone_.

There wasn't time for Edgar to comment on one of mom's many favorite sayings because a deep voice called up the steps.

"EDGAR, DINNER!" Sig hollered.

The kid flinched so hard, the entire bed shook and Norman had to hide a wince at the sudden jostling of his stomach.

"Tell 'em I'm not hungry," Edgar whispered desperately to Norman.

"It's not like your Last Supper. You're hungry. Go eat!" Norman hugged his brother tightly a final time and then withdrew his strong arms.

Edgar buried his face in the dent caused by the oversized chest muscles. "I can't face him."

"We live in the same house, in case you didn't know. You're gonna run into him eventually," Norman nudged his brother off the bed with his hipbone. It was a stupid move because it caused a pain to shoot up his right side and Norman bit his lip to keep from moaning.

Edgar still refused to move, feeling perfectly safe and protected right where he was.

"Bring down the tray, too!" Sig hollered up again.

Norman waited for the kid to move but he didn't. _Come on, Edgar. Don't make this worse for yourself._

"Edgar, look at me," Norman demanded gently.

Edgar lifted his face and rested his chin on Norman's chest.

Getting the direct eye contact he wanted, Norman stroked the kid's unscratched cheek and said with complete sincerity, "He loves you. Ain't nothing ever, EVER gonna change that."

The youngest Hansen closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"He loves you, too," Edgar said and slid off the bed. Picking up the tray, he left Norman's room with his head down.

Norman watched the tray leave the room. Looking down at the ring on his finger, he ran his left hand over the flat, blue stone and studied his own high school insignia. _I know_.

* * *

Edgar focused his eyes solely on the tray in his hands, never looking up the entire way down the steps, through the living room and into the kitchen. As he placed the tray down on the counter, Edgar immediately took notice that all the medication packets, instructions and phone numbers were no longer on the kitchen counter. Even the manila envelope was gone. _Sig doesn't trust me anymore. _

The absence of Norman's things was a blow to his chest and Edgar felt his heart sink.

"Eat," was the simple command from the oldest brother.

Edgar turned around and found a bowl of soup, bread and a small salad at his place on the table. Sig was sitting across from the empty chair, eating the same dinner and keeping his eyes on the meal in front of him. The damning white pill that had been there a few moments ago was long gone.

As much as he wanted to throw himself in his brother's arms and beg for forgiveness, Edgar did as he was told and sat across from his brother. The meal looked good enough but he truly was not hungry anymore. Not wanting to annoy his brother further, Edgar picked up the spoon and forced himself to eat the offering.

A glance or two over his spoon, Edgar could only catch glimpses of the top of his oldest brother's blond head. He noticed Sig had both arms on the table, his spoon in his right hand, his left resting in front of his soup bowl. Edgar mimicked his brother's position, left hand in front of his soup bowl and inches away from Sig's.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Both oldest and youngest brother ate their soup and salad without a word or look between them.

When Edgar could no longer take the silence, he looked up and whispered, "Sig…"

"Don't, kid," Sig whispered back, cutting him off and not looking up, "I know there's a lot you want to say but I can't listen to it right now. I'm…pissed off…and I know I'll say something I'll regret. I need time to wrap my head around all this. So...just let me cool off and we'll talk later." Sig stared into his soup bowl, feeling very angry and disappointed at himself and his youngest brother. _There's a lot I want to say to you too and I need it to come out right. And God knows, if I try now, it's gonna come out very wrong, laced with a lot of foul language I'd rather not use around you. Time, kid, I just need some time. _

Sig's voice sounded so hurt that Edgar wanted to run back upstairs and hide under Norman's covers. Edgar stared blankly at the top of his brother's head, unable to get any eye contact from him. Before he could stop himself, Edgar whispered an, "I'm sorry," that sounded choked, desperate and completely from his heart.

Sig gripped the spoon in his hand tightly, closing his eyes and flexing his jaw muscles. As angry as he was, he couldn't deny his brother a tiny bit of reassurance. Sig shifted his left hand resting on the table slightly forward, grazing Edgar's fingers with barest of contact. He never looked up, but just left his hand where it was, touching his brother's bent fingers with his own. Sig returned to eating his dinner.

Edgar looked at the bigger hand touching his and felt the warm contact. The touch was so faint, he could barely feel it but the tiny gesture gave him the comfort he needed for the moment. He resumed his dinner, leaving his hand against his brother's.

The remainder of dinner was silent. When Sig finished, he stood up and took his dishes to the sink. Without turning around, he said quietly, "I'm going for a walk."

"Can I go with you?" Edgar asked as he stared at his empty bowl.

Sig glanced out the kitchen window, "You going with me sort of defeats the purpose of the walk, kid."

Edgar raised his head, staring at the back of his brother's broad shoulders, "I'll be quiet. I won't say a word." _I want to be with you, no matter how angry you are at me. _

Sig wanted to say yes but he needed to clear his head and having Edgar moping alongside of him wasn't going to help his mood. "No," Sig said firmly, "I need you to stay here. I won't be long."

Edgar lowered his eyes, "Should I wait in my room?"

Sig took a deep breath. _There's nothing like sending a kid to his room to wait while his punishment is decided. I can't do it this time. _"No," Sig said softly, "You don't have to wait there if you don't want to. Keep Norman company or watch TV down here. It doesn't matter."

"What's gonna happen when you get back?" Edgar asked, hating the unknown. He stared at his socks, assuming he already knew the answer but needing to hear it from Sig anyway.

"I'm going to get a shower," Sig said, turning around and looking at the kitchen floor. "Then we'll talk, I'll punish you and we'll all go to bed," he answered coldly, "Is that the answer you were hoping for?" _Why'd you have to push, kid? Why?_

"No," Edgar felt the hot tears forming in his eyes and he looked up, desperate for his brother to acknowledge him with more than just words.

"Then what answer were you looking for, Edgar?" Sig asked as he finally made direct eye contact with the green eyes.

Edgar's breathing became labored and he had to force air into his lungs, "That you'll forgive me." One hot tear slipped down his scratched cheek and he looked away from the blue eyes, wondering why he even wanted the eye contact in the first place.

_Don't withhold your forgiveness. _

Sig walked across the kitchen in two strides, pulled his brother up from the chair and held him tightly in his arms. Edgar almost melted into the embrace and wrapped his arms around his brother's lower back, crying softly into the blue, button-down work shirt.

Sig stroked the soft hair. "I do forgive you, kid."

Edgar whimpered and cried harder.

"But I can't let this go. You lied to me," Sig said firmly.

"I know," Edgar sobbed into the nook of his brother's neck, "I hurt you and I'm sorry, Sig."

"Jesus, kid, it's more than just that. Edgar…" Sig said as he pulled back and tipped his brother's chin up, tears streaming down the kid's face, "…yes, it hurts…a lot…that you lied to me…"

Edgar buried his face back into his brother's shirt, ashamed of himself. _I hate that I hurt him. Hate it_.

Sig continued softly, "But I'd never punish you just because you hurt me. I'm not like that. It's not about me and how I'm feeling. But it's hard to put that aside and I don't want any decisions I make to come from my own hurt feelings or my anger. I just need time to think clearly. Does that make sense?"

Edgar nodded, rubbing his hand along Sig's back.

"Kid, I want to talk to you so badly about all this because there's a lot of explaining that we BOTH need to do but I need time, time to figure out the right words to help you understand what the hell just happened. There's no way I'd punish you without you fully understanding what you're getting punished for," Sig explained carefully.

"Don't leave. I won't bother you. I'll stay out of your way. I'll stay up in my room," Edgar pleaded, "Just don't leave."

"It's just a walk, kid," Sig said gently, "I'm coming back."

Edgar hugged his brother tighter, not sure why he was so afraid of his brother leaving.

Sig would have laughed at the overreaction if mom was still alive and dad was still home and Norman hadn't spent a night in the hospital with his guts cut open. "Fine," Sig relented, "Take a walk with me."

Edgar looked up, "I'll be quiet," he reinforced his earlier promise and reassured his brother that he won't be a pest.

"That'll never happen," Sig said with a resigned sigh, "Maybe it is better that we talk outside without a certain someone listening from above." Sig pointed to the second floor. _Maybe you'll open up to me about what's been bothering you_.

"I'll get my shoes," Edgar tried to detach himself from his brother's arms but Sig wasn't about to let him go just yet.

"No matter what happened, or what will happen, I never want you to be afraid of me just because I'm angry. I'd never hurt you, Edgar, no matter how mad I get," Sig whispered into his brother's hair as he rested his chin on Edgar's head. _Took you long enough to come downstairs, kid. _

Edgar squeezed his brother back, "I know, Sig, and I trust you." _I'm afraid of you being disappointed in me. I'm afraid that I let you down and now you don't trust me. I'm afraid that I hurt you because I made the wrong decision. And I'm afraid you'll never understand why I still believe its right to lie if you're protecting people you love. _

* * *

Sig did the dishes quickly, emptying what was left of the soup into a container for tomorrow's lunch. As he placed the container back into the refrigerator, Sig took notice of "The List" that still retained a hard copy of Norman's past transgressions. Staring at the sloppy handwriting, Sig thought about Nick crying on the porch. _Don't think I've forgotten about you, tough guy. I'm not going to try and make things right with dad just for Edgar's sake_.

Edgar came down the steps, shoes tied and tear tracks washed off his face. Sig had removed his work shirt, revealing the white t-shirt underneath. His muscles from hard labor stretched the short sleeves of the cotton.

"Did you tell Norman we were leaving?"

Edgar shook his head and turned around to go back up the steps.

"Stop, I'll tell him. I want to get out of these work boots anyway. They're making my feet sweat," Sig explained as he shut the refrigerator door, grabbed the dirty, tear-soaked shirt off the kitchen chair and indicated the back door with a till of his head, "Go check on Mr. Steward and I'll be right out."

Mr. Steward was the Hansen's 88-year-old next door neighbor who lived alone since his wife, Ethel, had passed away a few years ago. Mom had looked out for him ever since, sending Sig or Norman to shovel his driveway or mow his lawn free of charge. The older gentleman always offered a few dollars but the boys would whisper to him that their mother wouldn't allow it. They wouldn't have taken the money anyway, even if she had. Norman had developed a close relationship with Mr. Steward over the years, often going over to his house without being told by mom and revealing his soft spot for the older folks. With the day's oppressive heat, Sig was concerned for their elderly neighbor.

"OK," Edgar answered quietly, heading out into the summer heat and across the back lawn. Out the kitchen window, Sig watched the kid jump the white picket fence between the houses and laughed. _Wish I could still do that._

With Edgar occupied, Sig pulled open the kitchen drawer and withdrew the manila envelope filled with Norman's medication. Taking several steps at a time, he went upstairs and into Norman's room.

"We're going for a walk," Sig explained as he leaned into Norman's room, holding onto the doorframe.

Norman was watching the local weather report, listening to the weatherman complain about the heat wave. He had heard Sig send Edgar over to check on Mr. Steward and was mentally chiding himself for forgetting about the old guy. _I'll check on him tomorrow, no matter how much it hurts to get down the steps._ "You and the kid?"

"Yeah, we'll be right back," Sig explained, glancing at tomorrows expected high of 93 degrees.

"But we don't own a woodshed or a barn," Norman said flatly, looking over at his bedroom doorway.

Sig came in the room and sat on Norman's bed, not a hint of humor in his eyes, "You know, Norman, sometimes you think you're funny and you're really not." Sig was gripping the manila envelope so tightly, his fingers started to crease the paper.

Norman realized he made a mistake and quickly backpedaled, "Sorry, Sig. I was just trying to get you to smile."

"You think this is fucking easy for me?" Sig asked angrily, his frustrations oozing out, "I hate this! I want dad to come home."

"Because he handles it so well?" Norman glared at his older brother, daring him to answer the question and uphold the new honesty promise between them.

Sig lost his temper. He figured the lecture was coming sometime this summer but he still wasn't ready for it. "Fuck off," Sig said loudly, grateful Edgar was out of the house.

"Fuck off yourself, Sig," Norman yelled back, his stomach aching, "You started this the minute you picked up that paddle for the first time and showed that kid a different way of doing things. And I ain't talking about a strap or paddle or a fucking wooden spoon. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You talk to him about things. You give him a change to explain and go over what he did wrong. You punish him with love and compassion. You give him a chance to apologize and tell him everything is gonna be OK. And then you hold him till he feels better about himself and tell him how much HE IS FUCKING LOVED!"

Norman continued throwing punch after punch, watching Sig's face collapse and not caring, "SO DON'T FUCKING ASK ME TO FEEL SORRY FOR YOU BECAUSE DAD'S NOT HOME! STOP WHINING! IT'S EITHER HIM OR YOU! AND THAT KID DOWNSTAIRS NEEDS YOU! **YOU! **NOT DAD AND HIS FUCKING EMOTIONLESS PUNISHMENTS." _There…I said it! I'm not coddling you through this anymore. Man up!_

Every word was like a trap that Sig couldn't fight his way out of.

"Sig," Norman took a calming breath, "I'm sorry cause I know you hate it but I'd rather you take care of our brother's punishments than dad for the rest of Edgar's teenage life."

It was the knockout punch and Sig got caught cold with it.

"What have I done?" Sig asked in a breathless voice, feeling the knot forming in his own stomach. _I've opened Pandora's Box and now it's too late to go back. _

"You did what needed to be done in this house for a long, long time, at least when it comes to handing out consequences," Norman answered slowly, "Now you gotta keep fighting, keep showing that kid he can count on you to do the right thing when he's done the wrong thing."

"And dad? What happens when dad gets back? I have to hand Edgar back over and let dad handle things," Sig started crying, his bottom lip quivering, "And I can't. I'm not going to be able to do it. What the hell am I gonna do, Norman?" Sig asked, desperate for some kind of answer.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Norman answered, adding firmly, "Just know you ain't crossing it alone. There's no way in hell we are making our little brother go back to the old way of things, not after all we've been through."

"We won't have a choice," Sig said sadly, brushing off the tears and swallowing the rest, "It's his father. It's our father."

Norman stared at his older brother and no answer, no snappy comeback, no quick retort. "Just deal with today. Deal with it YOUR way. It's what the kid needs. It's what he expects and, to be honest, relies on. Just don't wish that dad was home so you can hand off your responsibilities because it's getting harder for you."

"Oh, Norman…that one hurt," Sig rubbed at his chest.

Norman smiled, "The truth usually does."

"So does a lie," Sig answered honestly.

"Then you're KO'd," Norman said quietly.

"Big time," Sig said as he shook off the dizzy feeling, "This one's especially tough because I feel so bad for everything Edgar's been through lately, Norman." Sig contemplated out loud, "Maybe I should go easy on him?"

"Sig," Norman said with a sigh, "I can't help you with this decision, and even if I could, I won't want too. But if you treat him differently because you feel sorry for him, he's gonna know it. Edgar's pretty perceptive about these things, you know?"

Sig nodded. _Norman is right about this. I need to treat him like a normal kid that got lost and went in the wrong direction._ Leaning over and slipping the manila envelope into the bottom drawer of Norman's nightstand, Sig said, "You'll have to take your own medication from now on," as he shut the drawer, adding, "That doesn't mean I won't be checking up on you."

"I'm a big boy," Norman said, feeling a little insulted, "I can handle it." _I hate it when he tries to 'parent' me. _

Sig muffled a laugh. _Yeah, but I'm still responsible for you. Says so on the paperwork._

"We'll be back. Maybe we can watch the game with you tonight?" Sig said as he walked out of the room.

"Sig?"

Sig stopped and turned around, pausing. "Yeah, bro?"

Norman almost apologized for his poorly timed outburst, then said quietly, "Nothin'," as he went back to watching the local news.

Sig waited a minute to see if Norman had more to get off his chest. Getting only the background noise of the local sports report instead, Sig left Norman's room and headed down the hallway. Grabbing his sneakers from the closet, he changed his shoes and went downstairs for a long walk with his kid brother.

~tbc

A/N: Positive reviews are like when we were in middle school and the note you gave to your crush came back to you circled YES to the question: Do you like me? Circle Y or N. Same feeling - sweet butterflies that dance around in your stomach. Thanks for all the circled Ys and a special thanks to a wonderful BETA


	34. Swing Away

SEE ALL PRIOR DISCLAIMERS

Thank you for the lovely reviews – they are overwhelming. Lots of typos in another epic-long chapter. Please forgive me. I will fix them eventually.

* * *

Sig stopped off at the refrigerator on his way out the door. Taking out the container of leftover soup, he left the back door closed and headed over to Mr. Steward's house. Deciding against jumping the back fence, as he was too tall and in fear of accidentally injuring certain delicate parts of his anatomy, he walked around the front of the house and down the sidewalk.

Mr. Steward was resting on his front porch, a pitcher of lemonade sitting on the white side table by the porch swing. Edgar was sitting next to him on the porch swing, a glass of lemonade in his hand.

As Sig walked up the concrete steps, he heard his little brother telling Mr. Steward about Norman's surgery. "It was awful, sir," Edgar revealed, "But he's doing much better now."

Mr. Steward looked over at Sig, "Hello, Sigurd. Young Edgar here was telling me about your brother's recent travails. I'm sorry to hear of it. Please tell Norman I wish him a quick recovery."

"Thank you, sir," Sig said respectfully, "I'll be sure to do that." Sig took notice that the elderly gentleman looked tired and worn out. The windows to the house were shut tight as a drum and the house was dark inside. "This heat wave is bad one. Sir, are you running your air conditioning inside?"

"That new-fangled dang thing? Waste of electricity if you ask me," Mr. Steward tossed his wrinkled hand in the air to punctuate his distaste for the contraption.

"Do you have a fan at least?" Sig asked as he casually looked into the front screen door and through the house.

Mr. Steward glanced at the car passing down the street, "It's in the basement somewhere. I don't need it."

Sig started to get worried and his eyes strayed over to Edgar, hoping the kid could read his expression. _More like the old man can't get down and up the basement steps carrying it_. "Edgar can go get it for you," Sig said quickly as he volunteered his brother, "Edgar, go get Mr. Steward's fan out of the basement. You remember where the basement is, right?"

Mr. Steward started to protest but Edgar moved too fast and was halfway in the front door. Sig stopped him, handing him the container of soup and pushing him along. "We have some leftover homemade soup for you. Edgar, put this in the refrigerator, too."

Edgar was gone before Mr. Steward had a chance to complain. The older man despised feeling helpless but was grateful for the soup and assistance. The house had been like an oven all day and he had no energy to make himself something to eat.

"Thank you, Sigurd," Mr. Steward said, his sharp hazel eyes still lucid and full of life. "Your mother would be real proud of you boys. She was a good woman."

Sig had heard this compliment a hundred times from neighbors, extended family and locals from the fishing community. Still, he never got used to hearing it. _WAS a good woman, past tense_. "Thank you, sir," was all he could say.

Mr. Steward poured himself a glass of lemonade, "Would you like some, young man? It's not like Ethel used to make it but it'll do. I still can't figure out what that woman put in her lemonade to make it taste so good." Mr. Steward gave a laugh at his own thought to cover up the sadness of the statement.

"No, thank you, sir," Sig said gratefully, "Edgar and I are going for a walk and I don't want to leave Norman home alone for too long."

"Your father is back fishing again?" Mr. Steward asked kindly.

Sig nodded, "Yes, sir. Salmon trip."

"It's good for him to get back to work. So you're left home to take care of your brothers?" Mr. Steward seemed to contemplate this information. "Lot of responsibility, Sigurd. Not an easy job, raising teenage boys. Had five myself." The old man's eyes grew misty, thinking of his boys, all grown men now and living in different parts of the county.

"Yes, sir, it isn't easy," Sig laughed. _If only you knew_. Sig's expression turned sad, thinking of the upcoming talk with his youngest brother.

Reading an all-to-familiar look on the young man's face, Mr. Steward took the liberty of offering a little sound advice. _You gave me help that I don't want but needed. Let me return the favor_. "Young boys are like fire, full of energy and making life a warmer, friendlier place. But if you don't watch carefully, the fire can burn out of control. Let them grow but in a contained space with boundaries. If they go beyond that, reign 'em back in."

_OK, maybe you do know. What was I thinking?_ Sig looked at the kind, hazel eyes. "Fire's difficult to reign back in, sir," Sig said softly, listening to Edgar struggle to get the old wooden front window open.

"A firm hand and a lot of love, son," the old man said with an understanding glance, "A lot of love."

Both of them watched Edgar finally get the window open and place the box fan on the windowsill. A second later, the gentle hum of the fan started and Edgar came back onto the porch. "I put the fan next to your easy chair, sir. Now you can watch the television and have your lemonade inside," he said proudly.

"Thank you, young man," the man said with a smile, his dentures slipping a little, "Why, Edgar, you look so much like your mother."

Sig dropped his eyes and stared hard at his own big feet. He couldn't look at Edgar and watch the kid struggle with the reminder. _Just say thank you and move on, Edgar. Come on…recover from it_.

Edgar stared blankly at the gentleman for a moment. Choking a little, he muttered, "Thank you, sir. She was…" _everything to me._

"…Beautiful," Sig finished quickly, "Well, sir, we have to be going. Let us know if you need anything."

"I'll do that," Mr. Steward tipped his glass in Sig's direction, "You tell Norman I was asking after him and to take it easy. Knowing that young man, he'll be trying to mow my lawn tomorrow. Take good care of him, Sig."

"Will do," Sig said as he gently put a hand on Edgar's back, leading him down the front porch steps and to the sidewalk. The boys called goodbye and Edgar thanked Mr. Steward for the lemonade. Mr. Steward thanked them for the soup and went back into his house, lemonade in hand and ready to watch the baseball game in front of his cooling fan.

After they had gotten halfway down the block, Sig said sadly, "Sorry, kid. Mr. Steward was just trying to be nice. Mom took good care of him when Mrs. Steward died and he's never forgotten it."

Edgar shrugged his shoulders, "It's OK, I know I look like her. Lots of people have told me that I have her eyes. It's just that it never bothered me before…before she died. Now, it makes me feel…weird."

"Weird?" Sig asked as they turned the corner, "How so?"

"Dunno," Edgar scanned the upcoming block of houses, "Can't explain it."

Sig debated with saying what he felt or keeping it to himself. In the end, he decided to go for it. "I like that you look like her. Makes me feel like a part of her is still with me," he said fast before he changed his mind.

"She was super smart, Sig," Edgar said thoughtfully, "I wish I could be as smart as she was. I'm an…idiot."

"Whoa, hold on a minute," Sig stopped suddenly, grabbing his little brother's arm and swinging him around so they were facing each other, "I don't want to hear THAT ever again. You are NOT an idiot."

"I feel like one," Edgar said as he looked straight ahead and into his brother's solar plexus.

"Why?" Sig asked, "Because you trusted your friend and he let you down?"

Edgar nodded, watching as a large Golden Retriever and its owner turned the corner and headed towards them. The dog was pulling on its leash in an attempt to assure itself a good pet and ear scratching from the friendly looking strangers.

"That doesn't make you an idiot, Edgar," Sig said firmly as the dog got between them, jumping up and down and whacking them with its tail. Sig released Edgar's arm and Edgar knelt down to give the dog some well-deserved attention. Sig scratched the silky soft ears as the owner apologized for her dog's behavior.

"No problem," Sig said as he looked up, "She's gorgeous. What's her name?"

"Taffey," the owner laughed and the dog raised its liquid brown eyes towards her, almost like she was grateful to be formally introduced. Her pink tongue dangled from her muzzle and her panting was heavy underneath all the golden fur. "I just got her. She doesn't care for the heat but she's not content until she has her evening walk. I wish I had her energy."

Taffey lavished the attention for a time, then became distracted by several squirrels chasing each other up a nearby tree. The owner and the dog moved on, wishing the brothers a good evening.

"I miss Jack," Edgar said as they continued their walk, "He was a great dog."

Jack was a medium-size white mutt mom had found wandering the neighborhood one day when Sig was eight-years-old. She brought him home, fed him and tried to find the owner for several weeks. Dad was not pleased but mom insisted the dog was staying until the owner was found. Since Sverre couldn't say no to his wife, he relented but 'only until the owner comes for the mutt.'

Needless to say, Jack's original owner was never found and he lived a happy life with the Hansens until he died of old age. Sig was sixteen by the time Jack died and mom was heartbroken. The day Jack was put to sleep, mom called dad at the dock and told him Jack's owner had finally been found.

"He was a great dog," Sig reminisced, "We had a lot of fun with him. Remember when he got his head stuck in the fence. God, I thought dad was gonna go berserk when he had to take the fence apart to get him out."

"Jack followed mom around everywhere she went. Up the stairs, down the stairs and back up and down. Wherever she was, he had to be," Edgar smiled.

Sig laughed, "Maybe because she was the one that rescued him and remembered to feed him every day. If it had been up to dad, Jack would have been in the pound quicker than that," as Sig snapped his fingers, making a loud popping sound.

"Can we get another dog?" Edgar asked shyly, figuring Sig made all kinds of decisions for them now so permission for a dog would naturally come from him.

"Ummm…look, the park is empty," Sig said, dodging the question. Dad would never allow another dog in the house and mom wasn't around to fight for one. Sig didn't have the heart to crush Edgar's dreams but he wasn't in the position to make those kinds of long-term decisions.

The park was deserted, likely because of the heat and the dinner-time hour. Six swings, a sliding board, an old see-saw and a set of monkey bars glistened in the sun, their shining metal calling out to the local kids in the neighborhood. "You used to get so mad when mom would make you bring me here," Edgar said as they walked up to the equipment.

"Yeah," Sig laughed at the memory, "Because I was, like, twelve and wanted to ride bikes with my friends, not hang out at the park with a seven-year-old."

"If I had been the big brother," Edgar said in a lofty voice, "I would be happy to bring my little brother to the park whenever he wanted."

Sig almost busted a gut, "Yeah, right. Let me hear you say that when Little Miss Hardware Store invites you to her house and I tell you that you can't go because you have to walk our imaginary little brother to the park. Let's see how excited you are then."

Edgar rolled his eyes, hating when his big brother was right, which was a majority of the time. Sitting down on one side of the see-saw, he waited for Sig to take the other seat.

Sig shook his head, "Not gonna work. I got like 80lbs on you."

Edgar motioned for Sig to take the seat anyway, "Come on, just once."

"You'll never learn," Sig muttered to himself. He took the other seat, sending Edgar flying up into the air. Luckily, Edgar was holding onto the metal bar in front of the seat or he would have fallen off.

Getting stuck, Edgar stared down at his big brother. "OK, you're right," he yelled from up above. _Man, that's a long way down._

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you…all the way…up there. What did you say?" Sig screamed, knowing full well what Edgar has just said.

"Sig," Edgar hollered, "Let me down."

"No, that's not what you said the first time," Sig was wearing his evil big brother grin.

"I said," Edgar screamed, then silently mouthed, "You're right."

"That's what I thought you said," Sig yelled back, tempted to get off quickly and let his brother come crashing to the ground. _I'll never let you fall_. Sig exited slowly, using his right arm to lower the see-saw without flexing a muscle. Then, he wandered over the monkey bars.

Edgar quickly got off the see-saw and joined his brother, watching Sig show off by completing the monkey bars from one end to the other, having to bend his knees all the way under his backside because of his height. Sig jumped off, rubbing his sore hands yet smiling, "See, I still got it."

Testosterone floating in the summer air, Edgar gave his brother a smile of his own and climbed up on top of the monkey bars, balancing his way across them.

"Ummm Edgar," Sig said nervously, "We're already been to the hospital this week. I'd rather not go back. Be careful." _I don't like you up there_.

"I may look like mom," Edgar said as he held his arms out like a tightrope walker, "But you're really starting to sound like her." _And it doesn't bother me one bit_.

Sig closed his eyes because he couldn't watch. _Jesus, he right. When did that happen?_ "Just get off," he muttered as he looked up to the clouds passing overhead.

Edgar grabbed the last monkey bar and somersaulted off, landing soundly on the ground feet first. _Try that, big brother_.

"Always lands on his feet," Edgar said about himself with a wide grin.

"Not always," Sig said with a stern glare.

Grin fading, Edgar bowed his head and was brought back down to earth and the original reason for the walk with the ominous statement.

The boys wandered over to the swings, each one taking a swing and sitting down on the old strip of leather. Of course, they made a game of it to see who could swing higher. Sig won by strength and weight alone but both enjoyed the cool breeze on their faces from the powerful swaying.

When they could no longer put it off, both of them sat on the swings and talked about what happened. Edgar let his feet dangle, pushing the dirt with his sneaker and told his brother everything. He explained exactly what he had been thinking when Matt showed up and asked him to play soccer. In an unwavering voice, he told his big brother that he knowingly disobeyed him, thinking Sig would never find out and not once did Edgar make any excuses for his behavior. He didn't even attempt to save himself by defending Matt's uninvited entry into the house, saying that he allowed Matt to stay, wash his hands and get a drink instead of shooing him back onto the porch like he should have.

Sig listened to the first part of the story in silence, keeping his thoughts to himself. _He just wanted to have fun, be a normal kid for a while and hang out with his friend. And I have to punish him for it because he disobeyed me. Damn it, that hurts. _

"I cleaned up the kitchen and got a shower," Edgar finished the story of the exploding root beer can.

Sig explained gently, "And I came home and recounted Norman's pills." When he got a sly look from Edgar, Sig admitted reluctantly, "OK, yes, I was hoping he'd given in and take the pill to ease his pain. I wasn't gonna make fun of him for it, I just wanted to know that he wasn't hurting, even if it was only for a little while. I freaking hate that he's in pain."

"Me too," Edgar said quickly, playing with the chain links holding up the swing.

_Now comes the hard part_. "And when I counted and one was missing, I asked Norman about it. I was hoping he'd tell me he felt better but he told me he didn't take one. I was praying that he was just trying to look tough."

"He didn't," Edgar said, "He couldn't even get downstairs if he wanted to without help. He was asleep when I was outside."

Sig admired his kid brother's deductive logic. _You're far from an idiot, little brother. As a matter of fact, you're pretty damn smart…just like mom._ "So, when I figured out Norman didn't take the pill, my head started spinning."

Edgar looked over at his brother through downcast eyes and long eyelashes, "You were worried I took it?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes I was," Sig answered, studying the well-manicured grass of the adjoining soccer field, "I was worried sick. My stomach went down to my feet and I honestly thought I was going to throw up." Sig glanced over at his brother out the corner of his eye, "Probably exactly how Nick felt when he actually found the pill in his brother's pocket."

Another knockout punch, although both boys sensed the impact.

"When did you figure out Matt took it?" Sig asked.

Edgar closed his eyes, "The minute you asked me where it was."

"That was the minute you should have told me someone else was in the house," Sig couldn't help but pounce on the answer.

"Yes, sir, I know," Edgar whispered over the chirping of the crickets. _I screwed up._

"But you didn't," Sig said simply, "And I'd like to know why." _I already know but I'd still like to hear it_.

Taking a calming breath, Edgar explained, "Because I didn't want to get in trouble for disobeying you and having someone over the house while Norman was sick. Because I didn't want Matt to get in trouble for stealing and get a licking…"

Sig was about to say something about making things worse by lying when he realized Edgar wasn't finished.

"…Because," Edgar's voice broke, "I wanted you…to be proud of me…for handling things today." He felt the water pool in his eyes as the words slipped out but Edgar bit the inside of his lip and tried to fight them off. _And now you're less than proud, you don't trust me and I hurt you_.

Sig twisted his swing sideways, tying the chains together. He reached over and grabbed the chain holding his brother's swing and swung it around, facing him. Looking at the top of his brother's shaggy hair, Sig tipped up the young face and cupped Edgar's chin in his hand. "I am proud of you," he said with conviction, "You did an awesome job of taking care of our brother."

When Edgar tried to look away, Sig shook his chin back to front and center, "You did, Edgar. You did everything I asked and more. Norman's been fed, medicated, entertained and well-rested. He's in better shape now than he was before and that's because he had you. I haven't forgotten all the good things you did today."

Sig paused, "Just like I can't forget some of the bad things that happened today, too."

"I didn't wanna lie to you," Edgar sucked in his bottom lip to keep it from quivering, "But I wanted to protect my friend."

"Your friend could have been in a lot more trouble than just Nick finding out," Sig said softly, grazing his fingers over his brother's healing scratch.

"I know that now," Edgar said, looking into his brother's concerned face, "Norman explained it to me."

Sig almost choked on his spit, "Did he, now? And what did Norman say?"

Edgar rubbed his chin against his brother's hand and talked about the differences between spilled grape juice on the carpet and drinking and driving and loving people enough to tell the truth when they're really in danger, no matter how much you want to protect them.

Sig wished he could send a mental hug to his younger, appendixless brother because Norman just did him one of the biggest favors anyone had ever done for him.

"I should have listened to you, Sig. You tried so hard to help me do the right thing," Edgar explained, "I should have told you the truth."

"I wish you would have," Sig said as he released Edgar's face, "I wish to Christ you would have. Don't you trust me?"

Edgar was so taken aback by the question, he slipped forward a little in his swing, "Of course I do," he pleaded passionately, "I trust you more than anyone. You and Norman, that is." Edgar put his hand over Sig's bare forearm, feeling the fine, blond hairs standing on edge.

"Then why didn't you trust me when I asked you to tell me the truth?" Sig asked, "Didn't you think I would know the right thing to do?"

"I…I…I didn't know…I didn't know what to…do." Edgar stammered.

"I know that," Sig said, looking at the space between them, "That's why I asked you to trust me and let me help you figure it out. Instead, you went your own way, thinking you can handle all the big things on your own."

"I want to…I want to handle the big things on my own. (_Like the Shack and Elliot's threats_) You have enough to handle, Sig," Edgar said forcefully.

Sig tilted his head back and let the sunset warm his face. _I'm not sure how to respond to this_. Wise words came back to him ~ _let them grow but in a contained space with boundaries._

Sig turned back to his brother, "OK, Edgar, I get it. You need to try and figure things out on your own and sometimes there will be nothing I can do except watch you make mistakes. And I'm sure there will be sometimes that you'll succeed and I'll get to celebrate with you. But either way, when you make decisions on your own, you have to live with the consequences of them."

"I know," Edgar whispered, "Norman talked me about this, too. I know that the consequences today are that I lost your trust and it's gonna take a long time to get it back. I know that I hurt you and I have to live with it. And I know that you're gonna punish me for lying and disobeying and making this whole situation harder than it had to be."

_Well, that pretty much sums up this part of the discussion. Wow, Norman, I owe a case of beer in about four years_. "OK, you're right. I don't have as much trust in you as before but it helps a lot for me to understand why you did what you did. Trust will come back in time."

Sig gave his brother a blazing smile as bright as the sun falling to their west. Edgar tried to smile back but ended up staring at his feet.

"Oh no, look at me," Sig said softly, twisting his swing further and knocking his knees against his brother's. When Edgar looked up, Sig said slowly and with meaning, "This conversation helps in the trust department. As for hurting me, there's nothing I can say about that except that I forgive you."

"I haven't been punished yet," Edgar looked slightly confused.

"Oh, kid," Sig said as he knocked against the small knees, "You don't have to get through the punishment to get forgiveness on the other side. It's always given. But the punishment does help with letting go and forgiving yourself. And it's also a consequence of the action." _Oh my God, I do sound like mom_.

"Mom used to say that," Edgar whispered.

Sig nodded, "I know, it's like we were actually listening."

Edgar laughed, reminded of all the times their mother accused them of not listening and asking how many times she had to repeat herself. Sig laughed because he didn't want to get to the next part of the conversation.

When the laughter died down, there was nothing left to discuss but consequences. "How you gonna punish me?" Edgar asked quietly, feeling his heart rate go up.

"Two fold," Sig revealed the decision he made as he watched Nick and Matt leave the driveway. "Two punishments."

"OK, what's the first," Edgar asked as he twisted his swing.

"By Friday night, I want a two page essay about the book you're reading," Sig said flatly.

Edgar actually did fall out of his swing. Bouncing off the ground, he started brushing himself off, pacing and pleading, "Please, Sig, don't make me write. Ain't never had to write as a punishment. I hate writing. It's summer." Edgar went on and Sig let him whine, mentally acknowledging the kid would have a hard time accepting this new form of punishment. Edgar was at the "I'm never gonna disobey again and ground me for the rest of my life" stage when Sig had heard enough.

"EDGAR," he said with authority, "Keep going and it will be three pages."

Edgar stopped pacing and whining and stood in front of his brother. _Apparently, I just lost my mind because I've never argued about my punishments. Course I've never had to write either. Shit, that was disrespectful to argue with my brother_.

Seeing the fallen expression, Sig called the kid over with a crook of his finger. Spreading his knees apart, Edgar stood between them and apologized for whining.

"I know, it's not the kind of punishment you're used to," Sig said as he held his brother's hands, "But I'm not being cruel. You need to write to do well in high school and practicing is important. So, this is a punishment with a purpose. Plus, I want something for me this time."

"For you?" Edgar asked, realizing that his brother wanted something from him.

Sig turned a little red, which was not from the summer's heat, "Yeah, I don't know. Maybe it's selfish on my part but when I punish you, neither one of us gets any pleasure out of it. This is something that you can create that I can keep forever."

"What should I write about?" Edgar inquired wistfully, already coming up with ideas in his head.

"Write about what it means to have brothers. Relate it to the story. Relate it to us," Sig suggested, "Or whatever, doesn't matter."

Edgar had the first few sentences written in his mind already. "Yes, sir, by Friday."

"Good," Sig said and then stopped.

When he didn't say anything, Edgar squeezed his brother's hands. "And the second?" he asked quietly, although he knew the answer from the pained looked on Sig's face.

Sig was struggling trying to get the words out. Letting out a deep sigh into his brother's chest, Sig still had trouble with it.

"I'm gonna get a lickin'?" Edgar said the question as a statement.

Sig gave one hard nod, squeezing his brother's hands back. Unlike the first punishment, no pleading, no begging and no struggle came from the youngest Hansen.

"Paddle?" Edgar asked softly.

Sig quickly dismissed the question with a shake of his blond hair. Taking another hard breath, Sig said, "Edgar, I promised you I'd always tell you what was going to happen before it happened."

"Yes?"

_Say it quick, get it over with_. "I'm gonna spank you with my hand over your boxers."

Edgar nodded that he understood.

"And…" Sig continued, "…the very last part of that will be my hand on your bare backside."

Edgar's eyes grew wide and his heart skipped inside his chest. Before he could stop himself, he dropped his brother's hands and walked away, hiding around the other side of the sliding board. He put his forearm against the burning metal, not caring that it was burning him and buried his eyes in the nook of his elbow.

Sig sat on the swing, twisting it slightly back and forth and listened to the soft sounds of crying coming from the other side of the slide. His heart clenched in his chest but he refused to relent on his decision. _This has got to mean something to you, kid. You have to know how serious I am about the lying._

After giving the kid a few minutes to come to terms with his decision, Sig got up and went around the slide. He wanted so much to touch his brother's back and provide him with the comfort they both needed but he didn't know how Edgar might react to it. Instead, he said softly, "It's OK if you're angry with me. I understand if you're mad and if you don't want to talk to me or be around me for a while afterwards. I won't be mad if you're angry."

"I'm not angry," Edgar said quietly.

Sig was secretly relieved. He meant what he said about understanding the anger this might bring but it would have been hard on him to have Edgar bear hard feelings towards him. But now he was worried the kid was frightened and that was even harder on Sig than anger.

Sig screwed up his courage and moved closer to his youngest brother, placing a loving hand on the narrow shoulder. "Are you afraid?" Sig whispered.

Edgar only shook his head, then shrugged one arm slightly like he didn't know.

"What, kid?" Sig encouraged gently, "Just talk to me."

"It's…embarrassing," Edgar was embarrassed just to admit he was embarrassed.

Sig rubbed the back of the kid's neck, under his light brown hair that was starting to get blond highlights from the summer sun. "Kid, I'd never humiliate you. You're just gonna have trust me on this one."

"Can't you just paddle me instead," Edgar asked desperately.

"No, not for this. You never put yourself in danger and the paddle is too harsh for just lying and disobeying," Sig explained the best he could, "But this time, I'm making things a little more personal between us." He leaned in and whispered in his brother's ear, "Don't be afraid or embarrassed. It's just you and me and it's just a few swats at the end. If it makes you feel any better, I won't even look."

Edgar laughed in spite of himself and wiped the tears off his arm, glancing over at his brother and his ridiculous statement. Sig held out his arms and was rewarded with a tight hug. "I'll be with you the whole way."

"I know," Edgar whispered, nestling into his brother's strong arms. "I really am sorry for everything."

"I know…and we'll move on from this," Sig heard himself say. _Move on to where? Dad? What's that gonna be like? Like Norman said, just deal with today_.

A few small children and their mothers approached the park, the kids giggling and chasing each other. The brothers separated, Sig taking a minute to wipe Edgar's face free of any remaining tears. Then they left the park and made the walk back to the house.

On the way, they spotted Taffey in her new home, lounging in the bay window and licking the frost off the glass from the AC. Mr. Steward was spotted in his easy chair, his fan blowing and sounds of a baseball game coming from his house. Edgar mentioned to Sig that the elder gentleman didn't seem to have much in his refrigerator when he put the soup in there earlier. Sig made a mental note to pick up some groceries for him tomorrow and expressly told Edgar NOT to share the information about the refrigerator with Norman.

As the boys approached their own porch, Sig stopped like he'd been hit with lightening. "Wait," he said as he grabbed Edgar's arm.

Edgar jumped at the sudden panic in Sig's voice, "What's wrong?"

"Norman's home," Sig said it like it meant something.

"Yeah, he's sick," Edgar said, holding his hands out like 'you just realized this?'

Sig pulled his brother closer and whispered, "Norman can't leave…like, leave and go get ice cream. You know what I mean?"

"Oh," Edgar now understood, "That's gonna make things…awkward…for all of us."

"What do you want to do?" Sig asked, not having a solution for this problem, "I really don't want to put him through listening to you being punished again and I'm sure you'd be more comfortable without that, too."

"You don't have to punish me in my room," Edgar said quietly.

"No, that's where you feel safe and, to be honest, I'm not OK with doing it in the basement or garage because it's just too weird. Anywhere else in the house, he's gonna hear it," Sig explained, realizing this was a major problem.

"Sig," Edgar asked softly, "Would you be mad if we waited until Norman fell asleep? I'm not trying to put it off and I know you gotta get up for work tomorrow but…"

"Don't worry about me and I ain't mad," Sig said, releasing his brother's arm and stroking his cheek quickly to reinforce the statement, "I just hate for you to have to wait because I know how you hate it. Waiting sometimes can be worse than the actual punishment." _Like that list hanging on the refrigerator door_.

Edgar thought about the last lickin' he got and how upset Norman had been when he came home too early. _I can't do that to my brother. It's not fair that he's in pain and stuck in the house. He has no choice but to stay._ Raising his chin, Edgar pronounced, "I'll wait."

Sig recognized the sacrifice and bowed his head in acceptance, "That's pretty brave of you, little brother. One of the many reasons I AM proud of you."

Edgar's chest got tight from hearing the praise. Feeling like he'd spent the better part of his short thirteen years trying to impress his big brother, Edgar headed into the house before Sig could see him blush outright.

* * *

Both boys immediately went upstairs to check on their recovering brother. Norman complained jokingly that they were gone too long. He said he was getting worried they'd abandoned him and he would starve to death in his bed. He also complained that the phone rang and he was too slow to get it in time. He bitched that it could have been Amanda and he missed the call.

Sig listened to the attention-seeking behaviors for a few minutes and left in mid-complaint to go get a shower.

Once the shower water was running, Norman asked Edgar, "So…what's the sentence? The rack? The Iron Maiden? Screws under your nails?"

Edgar slid into the other side of the bed and whined quietly, "He's making me write an essay."

"Holy Mother of Pearl," Norman didn't know if he should laugh or pat Sig on the back, "You really are being tortured!" _Actually it is the perfect punishment. Kid needs to work on his writing. Leave it to Sig to come up with a new form of consequence the kid really hates and is good for him at the same time. OK, I formally withdraw my Parent of Year application._

"And I get a licking." Edgar explained with no whining, just quiet acceptance.

Any laughter Norman might have held back died in his throat. _I knew it was coming but it still hurts to hear._ Trying to turn on his side to face Edgar, Norman winced heavily but accomplished the task. He ran a finger over Edgar's nose, down the length of it. "You OK?" he asked sincerely, searching his brother's face for any signs of distress.

"Yeah," Edgar said with a forced smile, "I knew it was coming. So did you."

"Still doesn't make it easier. Remember what I said about how much I hate it when my brothers get in trouble, no matter what they've done?" Norman asked.

"I remember," Edgar whispered over the splashing of the shower water, "That's why I asked to wait until you fall asleep."

"I could probably stay up for, like, four or five days, if you want me too? Maybe Sig will forget by then." Norman was truly sincere in his offer.

Edgar gave his brother a true smile, no force needed, "You know he won't. He's pretty disappointed in me. He won't say it…he doesn't have too, though. I know. Thanks, anyway, Norm, but I'd rather go to sleep tonight with all this over with."

"Except for that essay," Norman rolled back and sat up against his pillows, "That's a ball buster."

"Can you help me?' Edgar asked hopefully.

"Spelling and grammar only," Norman flipped on the baseball game, "Anything else and it's cheating. You could get expelled for that in school and I sure as hell ain't setting that example." Norman got quiet for a minute, then added, "And when school does start again, I'll be overseeing your homework."

Edgar raised shocked eyes towards his brother but Norman ignored him, focusing solely on the TV. The youngest Hansen wasn't sure if Norman's assistance would be a blessing or a curse. Norman was extremely smart, always brought home straight A's and was a wiz at math. Edgar sensed that although he'd appreciate the help, he was going to have a new set of standards and expectations to live up to and the thought was daunting.

"Sig might be disappointed but he'll be fair. Of that, I'm sure," Norman whispered quickly.

"I know, Norman," Edgar said as he curled up closer to the big guy, "I deserve it. Now, please stop worrying about me."

_Easier said than done, kid. But I'll respect the request because I know how annoying it is to have everyone worrying about you. You both have been worried about me for days now_. "How is Mr. Steward?" Norman asked suddenly, sidetracking the conversation and remembering why Edgar left the house before Sig.

Edgar relayed Mr. Steward's message along with telling Norman about the fan, the park and Taffey the dog.

While Norman half-listened to Edgar's reasons for wanting another dog, Sig was getting out of the shower and drying off. After getting dressed in a soft pair of old sweatpants and a clean t-shirt, he washed his face in the sink and noticed how sore and dry his hands were.

Looking carefully at the callous and rough patches from hard work at the docks, his heart ached a little at the thought of punishing his brother. Normally he wouldn't have given two shits about his hands. _It's just not something guys worry about._

Kneeing on the bathroom floor, Sig searched under the sink for dad's Bag Balm lotion. Finding the dark green square container, Sig sat back on the floor and worked the lotion liberally over his rough skin. The lotion made the rough patches just a little softer, a little less abrasive. _I guess this is stupid. Not like it's gonna matter or make it any better on the kid._ As the lotion seeped into the rough skin, Sig thought about Mr. Steward's words 'a firm hand.' Sig almost laughed at himself. _As soft, firm hand – it that possible?_

Feeling somewhat silly worrying about such a minuscule thing, Sig put the balm away and left the bathroom. Finding his younger brothers watching the game, Sig went downstairs, checked the mail and paid some bills. He also checked the answering machine by the phone. A message from the dentist's office played, reminding the listener of the boys' 6 month check-up tomorrow evening. An appointment mom had set up during their last check-up six months ago.

The phone message brought up a lot of feelings Sig wasn't prepared to deal with at the moment and he pushed away the thoughts of mom quickly before he found himself running to the store for a pack of cigarettes.

Setting the AC to full blast, Sig had a momentary pang of regret that Mr. Steward probably didn't run his air conditioning because he couldn't afford the electric bill. The old man seemed so lonely, living by himself. It was this sad thought that made Sig think of his father. _I don't want him to be alone for the rest of his life. Mom was his high school sweetheart and they were together almost their whole lives. They really loved each other. Would dad even think about getting remarried someday? Jesus, I'd have a step-mom. Holy shit, so would Edgar._

That thought stopped the 'dad getting remarried' line of thinking close to its inception. _Edgar couldn't handle that. Not now, anyway_.

Pushing the thoughts away, Sig grabbed the deck of cards and headed back upstairs. Edgar was pleased to see the cards come in and almost jumped on the bed before remembering why they were in Norman's room in the first place.

Facing each other, Edgar's back to Norman and Sig facing him, the eldest and youngest brother played several hands of poker while sitting on Norman's bed.

Norman picked up on the fact that Sig was trying to distract and comfort the kid at the same time so he frequently reached up and rubbed Edgar's back from time to time while absentmindedly watching the game. _God I wish I could go get ice cream now and not make this kid have to wait on my account. It's a sacrifice I wish he didn't have to make for me. _

Sig took notice that every time Norman moved or shifted, a look of pain crossed his face. _Take the pill, tough guy. You've been suffering all day_.

As time passed, the Mariners won another game and Sig lost many hands of poker, too distracted on upcoming events to focus on the cards. Amanda did call, Sig answered the phone and Norman trucked his way into the hallway. Edgar and Sig listened and rolled their eyes at each other over the gushy love talk being whispered into the phone.

When Norman came back to his room, Sig made fake kissing noises and pretended to swoon, falling faint onto the bed. Edgar laughed so hard, he almost wet himself. Norman threatened to remember this activity when he was feeling better.

"You want some tea, Norman?" Edgar asked before his older brothers got into a fight.

"Sure," Norman responded.

"I'll make it," Edgar said as he packed up the cards and carefully exited the bed.

"He can have a little sugar tonight," Sig said as he smiled at Norman, "If he didn't get enough already."

"I will punch you," Norman stated flatly, waiting for Edgar to get off the bed and then gingerly taking his place back in bed. His movements were still slow and pained and he flinched as he tried to get comfortable. Sig sat with his legs crossed and watched his seventeen-year-old brother move like a seventy-year-old man.

After Edgar was downstairs, Sig and Norman stared at each other for a minute.

Finally, Sig spoke first, "You're in so much pain, Norman. Just admitted it."

Norman couldn't keep it to himself anymore. "It's fucking killin' me," he said with a wince as he brushed his stomach over the blankets, "Why do things hurt worse at night?"

"I don't know," Sig shook his head, "Please…please just take something for it."

Norman looked pensive, his pride on the line and not willing to give in unless he got something out of the deal. "Fine, get me a pill…but you gotta promise me something first."

"What?" Sig said nervously. _Please don't try to talk me out of punishing our brother. I can't take it_.

"You'll stay with him…afterwards." _Please don't go in your room all alone and cry yourself to sleep. I can't imagine how bad you must feel but that just breaks my heart._

"I always do," Sig said as he hid his relief at the easy request. Getting up, he reached over to the nightstand, taking out one white pill and one blue and purple pill.

"No, Sig," Norman seemed strangely desperate, "I mean you'll sleep in his room."

Sig stared at his brother, both pills in his hand, "He seems to want you lately…I mean when he's hurting or scared…he asks for you. Do you not want him in here tonight?"

"No, it needs to you this time," Norman seemed so intent on it, Sig was curious as to why.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sig looked confused. "Because you're in pain?" he asked, trying to find an explanation.

"Damn, no," Norman kept pushing, "I could be half dead and still be with him if he needed me. I want you to do it this time, Sig. Just fucking promise me and stop giving me a hard time about it. It's…important to me."

Norman seemed embarrassed at the request so Sig stopped asking why. Handing over both pills, he promised to stay with Edgar throughout the night. Norman was visibly relieved, which Sig didn't understand. Reaching for the glass of water left over from dinner, Norman finally gave in and took the Codeine along with his antibiotic. Now Sig looked vastly relieved, which Norman didn't understand.

"Thank you," Sig stated simply.

"It's just a fucking pill, Sig."

"They why the big deal?" Sig pounced.

Norman only glared at his brother, wishing he could punch him and hug him at the same time.

"And…thanks for talking to the kid and having my back," Sig explained.

"I've had your back my whole life," Norman grumbled, not caring much for this mushy shit, "You just realized that today?"

"Norman…" Sig started and stopped.

"Yeah?" Norman asked slowly, not sure what was coming next and thinking he wasn't going to like it. He started playing with the class ring on his finger, a habit he seemed to pick up naturally.

_Stick to the code_. "I love you."

Norman was at a loss for words for once in his life. It was one thing for his older brother to be upset and let the words just slip out. It was another to get looked straight in the face during a quiet moment and hear them. Norman thought about the person that dragged him down the steps, held his hand in the car all the way to the hospital and who was there the minute he woke up. That same person rearranged his room, took care of all the paperwork, got him through the harrowing elevator ride and brought him home. He couldn't help but squeeze the ring on his right finger as he twisted it nervously. _Over the last seventeen years, those things were just the tip of the iceberg_.

Staring straight back at his brother, Norman said clearly, "Sig, I love you, too. A fucking hell of a lot. Thank you…for everything you did. You saved my life."

Sig smiled, shades of the evil big brother coming out. Leaning in, he whispered in Norman's ear, "Told ya you'd thank me."

"You're an ass," Norman said as he pushed his brother away from him.

Edgar arrived with the hot tea and handed off to Norman. Norman took it gratefully, sipping the hot liquid slowly and taking pleasure in the extra sugar Edgar managed to include.

"Stop smiling like a jackass," Norman said to his older brother.

"You stop first," Sig said back, helping Edgar climb over their brother and onto the bed.

"Why are you guys fighting?" Edgar asked as he squeezed his way in between Sig and Norman and leaned back against the headboard.

"We're not fighting, Edgar," Sig said, putting his arm around Edgar's shoulders, allowing the kid to rest his head against his chest and watch TV.

"We're just being…us," Norman explained, tea cup in hand. He looked over to the other side of the bed, over Edgar's head and nodded to Sig. _We're acting stupid because we just told each other we loved each other and it felt weird and wonderful at the same time. Now, we don't know what to do with ourselves because the warm fuzzies in our chests will not go away and we want to still feel like tough guys. _

An hour went by and the boys watched random things on TV, complaining that nothing good was ever on during the summer. Norman finished his tea and shuffled off to the bathroom, slow but determined to stand up straight and brush his teeth.

Edgar cuddled closer to his oldest brother, knowing that it wouldn't be long and feeling suddenly anxious.

Sig tried to think of something to say to comfort the kid. He didn't have to think very long. "Norman took the pain pill," he whispered into the shaggy hair.

"Good," Edgar relaxed, focusing on Norman and not himself, "Will the pain stop now?"

"Temporarily," Sig said simply, "But at least he'll be comfortable for a while."

"Why'd he wait so long?"

"Who knows…a test of his manhood, I guess." Sig looked towards the end of the bed and Edgar's bare feet sticking out from his jeans, "You're gonna need new pants soon. These are getting kinda short."

"They're from last summer," Edgar mentioned.

_No one thought to buy you anything new this summer. That was one of the many things that fell into mom's department._ _Older brothers shouldn't have to worry about this kind of stuff but that's where I'm at ~ caught somewhere between being the dad, the mom and the older brother_. "We'll go shopping soon. I have to work this weekend so maybe next week, OK?"

"I'm alright, Sig," Edgar brushed off the concern, "I still have some things that fit, plus I have Norman's old stuff."

"How tall are you, now?" Sig asked, a flurry of things scurrying around in his brain. _You'll need your summer physical for eighth grade, including shots, God help me, and school supplies for next year. And you're due for a haircut, which will be a battle all in itself. _

"5'6¾," Edgar answered proudly.

Sig let out a low whistle, "Wow, a few more inches and you got Norman beat. He's only 5'10."

"How tall are you?" Edgar asked, his eyes looking up at his brother's chin.

"6'2."

"How tall were you when you were my age?"

"Ummm…don't remember, maybe 5'5 or so."

"Does that mean I'm gonna be taller than you?" Edgar asked with excitement.

Sig laughed, "Most likely…if you keep drinking your milk."

Edgar didn't like the milk reminder so he settled down and waited for Norman to come back. Norman came back from the bathroom and proceeded to get completely undressed and redressed into clean boxers and a t-shirt right in front of his brothers. Sig got a nice shot of his bare ass before turning away.

"Jesus, Norman," Sig rolled his eyes, "A little warning, please."

"You're in MY room," Norman was unfazed, crawling back into bed and under the covers. He was feeling light, airy and very tired. He was also no longer in tune with the nagging pain in his stomach. A drug-induced feeling came over him as he lay back down and tried to watch TV with his brothers.

Sliding down into the bed, he desperately tried to keep his eyes open.

Edgar could see Norman was fighting off the sleep and it was clearly for his benefit.

"I'm gonna brush my own teeth," Sig announced, crawling off the bed and leaving his younger brothers a few minutes of privacy to talk.

Edgar watched Sig disappear out of the door and then he rolled over to Norman's side. "Go to sleep, Norman," he whispered, "I'll be ok. I want to get it over with."

"I can stay up," Norman sounded like he was already half asleep. _Stay with him, Sig…please._

Edgar curled up next to him and stroked Norman's cheek with the back of his hand. _I love you for trying._

"That's…not…fair," Norman whispered, thinking of just how much Edgar was like their mother. _You are one brave, awesome kid._

A few minutes of mom's old trick and Norman was out. Sig came back in the room, looked at his younger brother and smiled. Turning to his youngest brother, Sig whispered, "Teeth," as he pointed to the bathroom.

Edgar slipped out of the bed and out of Norman's room. Sig left the TV on low, turned out the lights and shut the bedroom door.

Now that the only reason to wait was gone, Sig wanted to run back in Norman's room, wake him up and play a long game of Rummi 500. _Oh God, this will NEVER get easy…Never_. Sig sighed deeply and headed to Edgar's room.

Edgar's bed was made, the room clean and tidy. The guitar sat on its stand and Edgar's desk was covered in drawings of buildings and other cool structures Edgar hoped to build one day. Sig took particular notice to the detailed drawing of a crab boat that was identical to the picture hanging over his bed. F/V Northwestern was written in bold letters across the wheelhouse. _Maybe it'll be yours someday, kid. You can be the captain and I'll stay home, sipping vodka and coke on my front porch and watching the leaves change colors. _

Sig walked around the room a bit, setting Edgar's alarm clock by the bed for 5:00 A.M. and wondering why Norman was so insistent that he stay with Edgar throughout the night. _Maybe the tough guy just needs to rest and didn't want to worry about having a little visitor in the middle of the night. It's not that I don't want to stay with Edgar if he needs someone but I just don't know if that someone that he wants will be me. Would I want comfort from the guy that just punished me? _

Listening to the water run in the bathroom, Sig sat down on the edge of the bed and waited, wringing his hands nervously and missing his class ring for the first time since he took it off and gave it to Norman. _That and a damn cigarette_.

Edgar brushed his teeth, washed his hands and his face and looked in the mirror. He was reminded of the shaving lesson and smiled. Thinking of the gentle side of his oldest brother, Edgar steeled himself for the upcoming punishment with the reminder that Sig loved him very much.

Sig was a little shocked Edgar didn't take longer in the bathroom. _I would have_.

The kid walked back into his bedroom to find his oldest brother in 'that' position already so he figured all the talking was done.

Edgar turned around and closed his bedroom door, holding onto the handle a few moments longer than he needed to and staring at the floor.

"You ok, kid?" Sig asked in the softest voice possible.

"Four days…I only made it four days," Edgar said as faced the door, referring to the previous Friday's night escapades of smoking and breaking curfew. Taking a deep breath, he turned back around and faced his brother. "Is that some kind of new house record?"

"Hell, no," Sig smiled, "Norman's held that record for years."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Sig nodded emphatically, "When Norman was, like, seven or eight, he hid dad's wallet and refused to tell him where it was. Dad gave him a licking, of course back then it was nothing but a few light licks, but Norman still wouldn't tell him."

"Why not?" Edgar had to smile. _That would be my stubborn brother_.

"Cause he hid it so well, even he forgot where he hid it," Sig laughed, "Turns out, he hid it in the engine of the old Monte Carlo. When dad went to start the car, his wallet shredded into pieces and tore up the fan belt. Needless to say, Norman got another licking that day, the second more memorable than the first."

"Dad must have been livid," Edgar gasped.

"Oh, he was," Sig got serious, "So no, baby brother, four days is pretty far from the record."

The phrase 'baby brother' made Edgar's face turn sour and Sig knew he made a mistake. Trying to recover quickly, Sig added, "I don't know why Norman always had to annoy dad. He always got in trouble for it."

"Cause it's how he gets dad's attention," Edgar revealed. He was not sure if he should wait for Sig to give him instructions or if he should take his jeans off, so he just stood by the door.

"Never thought of it that way," Sig reflected on the Edgar's revelation. Growing quiet, he asked hesitantly, "Edgar…do I…give you enough…attention?" _Please don't tell me you do this stuff for that reason because this is NOT the kind of attention I want to give you. I want to take you to the lake and the 4__th__ of July fireworks and play cards and teaching how to find the crab. I'll give you all the attention and time you need. It doesn't have to be THIS._

Edgar approached his brother, wedging his way between Sig's knees. Unfolding his oldest brother's wringing hands, he said firmly, "Yes, you give me lots of attention and hugs and all kinds of stuff I need and want. I just wish I wasn't so much trouble."

Sig shook his brother's hands, "You are NOT trouble to me. Edgar, I don't know how else to say it. I love you. I like being with you. No one has to force me to drag you to the park anymore, if you know what I mean."

Edgar smiled, "I like being with you, too."

A silence hung over the room. After a minute, Sig stroked his brother's hand and let out a deep breath, "Any questions?"

"No, sir."

Making hard eye contact, Sig asked, "Do you understand why I'm doing this?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar said clearly.

"So we don't run into problems later, I'd like to hear why I'm punishing you so I know for sure there is no confusion on your part," Sig said firmly, "And so help me, do NOT tell me you're a bad kid."

Edgar nodded, "Because I disobeyed you and I lied. I lied several times, even when you gave me a chance to come clean. I put my friend in danger and I didn't do the right thing."

"Those are the correct answers," Sig said, smiling afterwards, "Now we got that out of the way. See, I'm learning. It's not like anyone gave me a handbook on how to spank a kid, you know."

"You've done a fine so far," Edgar smiled back.

"But I haven't done a fine job of taking care of you…of protecting you," Sig answered, feeling his heart sink.

When Edgar opened his mouth to protest, Sig put a hand up and stopped him, "No, it's true. I should have never left those pills on the counter. It was stupid of me. And I feel like part of this is my fault. So, I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

"Sig, you said not to let anyone over and I disobeyed that," Edgar said, "Otherwise, it wouldn't have mattered."

"Still, ultimately, I am responsible for what happens in this house," Sig answered, feeling the weight of burden his father placed squarely on his shoulders.

Edgar didn't know how to reply to that. It was so true, it was frightening and he was scared for his brother. All he could do was to lean forward and touch his brother's forehead with his own. "It's not your fault, Sig. It's mine. You trusted me and I let you down. As much as this spankin' is gonna hurt, nothing hurts more than that," Edgar whispered honestly.

Sig reached up and cupped the side of Edgar's face as they both stared at the bedroom floor. "You took a step back in the trust department but that doesn't mean you went back to square one. Don't believe for a second I've forgotten all the times you did tell me the truth," Sig stated bluntly.

They grew quiet, nothing left to say. Sig could have stayed that way for a long time, just having his brother close to him and forgetting about everything else. He wanted more of the quiet moment but Edgar pulled away, moving to his right side by his knees and started unbuttoning his jeans.

Sig leaned back, sitting up straight and just stared at his hands.

Edgar let the jeans slide to the floor, pooling around his ankles and his blue and red checkered boxers covering what pride he had left.

"You want to take the jeans off…all the way?" Sig asked quietly and without looking up.

"Yeah, is that ok?" Edgar asked shyly.

"Sure," Sig answered, "I always hated having them around my ankles. Made me feel like I was shackled to the kitchen table."

Edgar sat quickly next to his brother on the bed, leaning against Sig's for support. He slid the jeans off the rest of the way and crouched down to pick them up. As he folded them over to hang them on the chair, a white strip of plastic floated to the floor. Edgar's back was turned and he didn't see the bracelet fall out of his pocket.

Sig leaned over curiously and picked up the plastic strip, at first not realizing what it was. As he inspected it further, he wondered what Norman's hospital bracelet was doing in Edgar's pocket.

When Edgar turned back around, he spotted his brother reading the information on the bracelet. "Norman said I could keep it," he admitted quietly and moved next to Sig's right knee, "Is that ok?"

"Of course," Sig said as he ran a finger over Norman's name, "What are you gonna with it?"

Edgar only shrugged, not wanting to explain about the shoebox he kept under his bed. "Don't know. Just wanted to keep it."

Unsure of what to do with it, Sig handed the bracelet back to Edgar as he finally had the courage to look up at his brother standing next to him. Edgar still struggled with this part and Sig was not about to force him over his knee. He just waited patiently for Edgar to make the decision on his own.

_He won't let me fall. I trust him. Why is this so hard?_ A few moments passed again and Edgar nervously shifted his weight to either foot, rubbing his toes into the carpet.

"Take your time, Edgar," Sig said softly, "Second base ain't going anywhere."

"I like to imagine it is home plate instead of second," Edgar managed to smile.

With that, he placed himself over his brother's lap, settling himself over both knees and trying to contain his composure. As before, he folded both arms out on front of him and buried his face in the nook of his right arm, his left holding on the edge of the bed and Norman's hospital bracelet. Taking a few shaky breaths, he braced himself as before and waited for the punishment to begin. He tried very hard not to think about the end and what was going to happen last.

Sig waited for the kid to make himself as comfortable as possible in 'that' position, left only to stare at the upturned, boxer clad bottom in front of him.

"You alright?" Sig asked before he placed a hand on his brother.

"Yes, sir," Edgar turned his face and rested his cheek on his forearm.

Sig moved his left hand and went to gently touch Edgar's back when the kid almost jumped out of his skin and slid significantly forward. The hard startle scared Sig deeply and he pulled his hand away. Edgar was as surprised as Sig was and started apologizing, settling himself back over his brother's lap.

"Shhhh, kid," Sig whispered over the apology, "It's OK." Sig was immediately concerned. His voice was soft as he mentioned, "You've been really jumpy lately, Edgar."

"I don't know why…" Edgar sounded frustrated with himself.

"Maybe we should talk about it?" Sig said in a calming voice,

"No…I'm fine," Edgar said, "I'll be fine, Sig, really."

"Edgar," Sig said softly, leaning over closer to his brother, "Just…I don't know…" Sig struggled with how to explain himself.

"What?" Edgar looked back over his shoulder and saw the concern on his brother's face.

"Just…talk to me if you need too," Sig shifted his eyes to the side, still looking for the right words, "Tell me if you, like, need a break during this or if you need me to just get it over with…or…I don't know. Shit…Edgar, does that sound stupid?"

"No," Edgar whispered. _It just sounds like you love me._

"Just tell me if there's anything I can do to make this less…difficult," Sig said as he sat back up straight. _It's meant to be a stern punishment, a warning, a consequence. But I refuse to make it any harder than it has to be_.

"Just don't be mad anymore," Edgar said before burying his head back into the nook of his bent arm.

"Can I touch your back?" Sig asked, a little embarrassed about having to ask but not wanting to startle his brother again.

When Edgar nodded, he did just that. Sig placed his left hand over Edgar's t-shirt in a firm but gentle touch. As he made slow circles over the small of his brother's back, Sig reassured his brother as best he could, "Edgar, I'm not angry. I'm not mad. But I do have to get a little tough to do this. Do you understand the difference?"

_I'll never admit it, because what kid would, but I need you to be tough on me sometimes._ "OK."

Sig rubbed his brother's back, feeling him relax and letting go some of the built up tension. While he concentrated on that task, Sig debated what to do next. _This is a problem. I don't want to tell the kid when the spankings gonna start cause I don't want him to tense up and hurt himself. On the other hand, if I don't say anything, he's gonna get scared. _

Just rubbing small circles over Edgar's t-shirt, Sig placed his right hand on top of his left, then he slid it off slowly and guided it next to his left so Edgar could feel both hands on his back. A second later, Sig tip-toed his right fingers down Edgar's back, over his hip and across his backside.

"It's like itsy, bitsy spider," Edgar laughed at the light touch as his brother brushed his side.

"Don't let Norman know. He's scared to death of spiders." Both brothers laughed, knowing that Norman hated spiders as much as he hated small spaces and the feeling of being trapped.

Finally moving his right hand over the crest of Edgar's backside, Edgar realized exactly what his brother just did. _He's trying not to startle me_. The thoughtful gesture made Edgar feel like crying.

Sig felt Edgar tense involuntarily as the hand ended up in the correct spot to begin the spanking and he hated to startle the kid again. Coming up with a plan on the fly, Sig said, "Hey, you know that 'love tap' I gave you yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"A 'love tap' is like this," Sig announced, demonstrating the technique on Edgar's right buttocks, "All noise and no sting." He demonstrated again on the left buttocks. "See, perfect," Sig sounded pleased with himself. He continued to demonstrate his new-found ability.

Edgar didn't jump or flinch, just stayed silent and submitted himself to demonstration that continued for several moments, anticipated that the 'love tap' exhibition would soon be at an end. After a few more taps, it clearly was. Sig started swatting with medium intensity, as always, careful not to swat the same spot twice in a row at this point.

"I like the love taps better," Edgar whispered as the swats got harder and he held on tighter to the hospital bracelet for comfort.

Sig didn't let up, just keeping a steady rhythm, but laughed, "I wish they all could be like that." He swatted a little harder, "Edgar, I know you just wanted to have fun today and hang out with your friend. And I'm not blind to the fact that you tried to protect Matt from getting in trouble (swat). Even though it was wrong (swat), trying to protect your friend (swat) is an admirable thing (swat), kid, especially if you're (swat) willing to take the heat (swat) for him. But you can't disobey me (swat) when I tell you (swat) to do something and you sure as hell (swat) can't lie to me, under (swat) any (swat) circumstances (swat)," He gently wrapped his hand around his brother's waist and pulled him closer as the intensity of the swats increased slowly.

"Yes, sir," Edgar answered, grasping the edge of the bed and wiggled closer to his brother's stomach. The heat he planned on taking for Matt was currently blossoming all over his backside, his boxers provided only modesty and little protection from his big brother's strong hand.

Edgar found comfort in his brother's praise and truth in his admonishment. But, in his still-developing teenage brain, he believed that there were, in fact, real circumstances in which he'd have to lie to protect the people he loved. _Oh, God, please, if Sig ever finds out the awful truth about the Shack, maybe, just maybe, he'll look passed the lies and broken promises and understand I was just trying to protect my family. Maybe he'll even be proud of me. _

Sig steeled his heart to the small flinches Edgar started to make as he swatted the same area twice in a row. He cupped his hand, keeping the fingers tightly together and was mentally counting how many swats he was up too. _My hand is starting to burn so I know this poor backside in front of me is, too. _

The only sounds in the room were the noise of a firm hand swatting a tender backside. As he started focusing on the soft under curve, Edgar started whimpering softly, holding onto the hospital bracelet in a tight fist and moving his right hand off the edge of the bed and in front of his face. Old habits die hard and before he could stop himself, he stuck the knuckle of his index finger in his mouth to prevent the little noises he was making.

Sig caught the motion a few seconds later. "Really?" he asked in a frustrated voice, ceasing the swats and staring hard at his brother.

Edgar removed the knuckle fast, determined not to piss off his brother, "I can't help it," he whined.

"Edgar, come on," Sig softened his tone, "You've cried over my lap twice now. Why do you have to hide it? Cry if you want too."

"No," Edgar tensed up, "Not this time."

"What makes this time different?" Sig asked, adding a well-placed swat to the right sit spot, "Is it Norman? He can't hear you, kid. Norman's dead to the world."

"Please don't say that" Edgar begged, not wanting to think about how close their middle brother came to dying.

"It's just an expression, Edgar. Norman's fine. Nothing bad is (swat) gonna happen (swat)," Sig swatted hard several times over Edgar's very upper thighs.

"You don't (swat)…know (swat)…that (swat)," Edgar's flinched with each word and swat, "It seems like something bad (swat)…always happens (swat)…to us."

_It's how he feels and I can't blame him_. Sig swatted quicker, just wanting to get it over with, "I wish there was some way I could make things better and stop the bad things from happening but that's impossible. All I can tell you is that, whatever happens, we find a way to get through it together."

Edgar squeezed the hospital bracelet in his left hand, the burning on his backside bringing unwanted tears to his eyes. "It's not fair, Sig," he whispered as the tears started to flow down his cheeks. He sniffled hard, his shoulders hitching as he tried to fight back the overwhelming feelings.

Sig knew the kid couldn't take much more. He could feel the heat coming from his brother's bottom and he wasn't ever going to bruise the tender flesh regardless of how much his brother needed to let things go.

"Remember what I told you at the park?" Sig stopped swatting and leaned over, stroking his brother's hair with his right hand crossed over his left arm.

Edgar remembered all too well. As much as he wanted to beg for it not to happen, he only nodded his head and refused to look weak in front of his brother.

Sig felt the nod as he stroked the soft hair. "I'm making point with all this," he said with finality, "And I'm hoping you remember it after this is long over."

"Yes, sir," Edgar whimpered, mentally trying to accept his brother's decision. _I don't get to pick my punishments. Man, I wish I wouldn't have lied because this suddenly does not seem worth it anymore._

When Sig sat back up straight, he felt his brother tremble over him and he almost caved. _Be a man of your word because sometimes it's all you've got_.

Sig released his left arm and Edgar gasped softly, expecting his boxers to be lowered to his knees. Instead, he felt Sig's left hand reach under the hem of boxer pant leg, pulling the fabric back in a bunch and exposed the curve of his brother's left backside. Sig's joke to not look turned out to be something he should have taken seriously. The flesh now exposed was red and sore and his heart clenched so hard in his chest, it took his breath away.

"Edgar," Sig choked, feeling the tears coming hard and fast, "I…" He wanted to apologize for the hurt he caused but he knew he couldn't keep apologizing for this. He'd always be sorry each and every time he spanked or paddled his brother but it was a pain he'd have to carry on his own.

"Sig?" Edgar felt the cool air on the hot flesh. Edgar was caught between apprehension of a punishment he never experience before and pure gratitude that his brother found a way to do it without humiliating him.

Sig cupped his hand and said simply, "Nothing comes between us, Edgar. Nothing. No lies. No secrets. Nothing." He winced himself as he placed five hard swats on the bare flesh, watching his own handprint form over the area.

Edgar's head shot up and he dropped the bracelet behind the bed, grasping the bedcovers in between his fingers and squeezing hard. He whimpered loudly as the swats started, the sting like nothing he'd ever felt before. Hot tears escaped his screwed eyes and his resolve finally broke, not even realizing the swats stopped as quickly as they started.

As Sig let the fabric of the boxers settle back down to their natural place, his heart broke to hear his brother hiss as the cotton brushed over the burning flesh

"It's over," Sig whispered, rubbing his brother's back under his shirt, attempting to comfort him with a different kind of skin on skin touch.

Before Sig could stop him, Edgar slid forward, dragging his legs and feet over Sig's lap and almost kneeing him in the crotch. Luckily, Edgar missed the area and crawled to the edge of his bed, close to the wall. He curled up on his side facing the wall and sobbed into his hands.

Sig leaned over and touched his brother's shoulder but Edgar pulled away, getting as close to the wall as possible. His brother's reaction was one of the most heartbreaking things Sig had ever experienced and he turned away, wiping the tears off his face and collecting what was left of himself.

Edgar continued to crying, sniffling softly and hugging his knees to his chest. His backside was on fire but he didn't care. He suddenly didn't know how he felt because all kinds of emotions were flying around in his chest.

Standing slowly, his knees weak, Sig grabbed the fleece blanket at the end of the bed and unfolded it. Without a word, he turned and gently covered Edgar with it up to his waist. Edgar cried a little harder from the kind gesture, now adding guilt for pushing his brother away to the list of things he was feeling. He pulled the blanket up to his chest, wishing he could hide underneath of it.

Sig didn't know what to do, standing there and running his hands through his hair. _He doesn't want me. I should just leave. But I promised Norman I would stay. I always knew this was a possibility, that he would be angry at me, but experiencing it is far more painful than I thought_.

"Do you want me to leave, Edgar?" Sig asked, the lump in his throat making the words sound strange.

"No," Edgar said between sniffles.

"It's OK if you're mad at me."

"I'm not." (sniffle).

Sig didn't know what the hell was going on. All he did know was that his brother was in pain, visibly upset and crying. Closing his eyes, he sighed and wished he could wrap his brother in his arms and hold him to his chest. "Then why'd you pull away from me?" he asked quietly over the cries.

"I don't know," Edgar cried desperately, "Now it's too late." The kid sobbed hard, wanting take back the last few minutes and instead of crawling away, curl himself into his brother's strong arms and letting himself be held.

Sig actually laughed, partly because of the relief he felt, as he knelt on the bed and scooped his brother up and out of the bed. Swiftly, he moved the kid off the bed and sat him on his lap, careful to set his brother down as gently as possible.

"It's never too late, kid," Sig said as he wrapped his arms around Edgar's back pulled him close to his chest.

Edgar threw his arms around Sig's neck, clinging to his brother's t-shirt from behind and wept on his shoulder. "M'sorry."

"No more sorrys this time, Edgar. You've already apologized several times and it's over," Sig rocked the kid in his arms, feeling his shirt and shoulder getting soaked from tears

"Sorry for…pushing you…away," Edgar wept.

"Because things got too…personal?" Sig took a stab in the dark.

Edgar nodded against Sig's shoulder.

"I know that must have stung pretty badly but I stand behind my decision. I don't ever want to spank you, bare or not, but I can't have lies between us. So if you lie to me again, you can expect that to happen each and every time. And if that scares you a little, I'm OK with that, because maybe it will keep you from lying to me again," Sig leaned back, moving Edgar's cheek off his shoulder and looking into the red, watery eyes, "Lies do nothing but tear people apart and I won't let that happen to us. Nothing comes between us anymore."

Edgar slid down and buried his head in Sig chest, crying again and hiding his face so Sig didn't see the shame he felt. _But there are lies between us; secrets that you don't know about, promises that have been broken. No matter what, I can't tell you because you'll get hurt. Please, God, let this work out somehow_.

Sig let the kid have his cry and hoped that Edgar was letting go of not just things that happened today but all the pent up emotions he'd been feeling since Norman got sick.

When the sobs started to abate, Sig picked his brother up in his arms and tenderly placed him back in bed, letting Edgar roll onto his stomach. Sig turned out the main light, leaving on the nightlight over the bed. Then he crawled under the comforter and settled in next to his brother.

"You're sleeping here?" Edgar asked as he turned his head to Sig's side.

"Is that OK?"

Edgar immediately squirmed his way over and put his head on Sig's chest, over his heart. Sig lifted his left arm, letting the kid curl up against him and then put his arm down over his brother's shoulders. He stroked the kid's hair and asked quietly, "So…how was your day?"

Edgar laughed a little, "Not so good."

"Tell me about it."

"I got in trouble."

"No," Sig faked surprised, "A great kid like you? I can hardly believe it. Must have thought you had a good reason."

"I did at the time…not anymore, though."

"So what happened?"

"My second oldest brother explained to me what I did wrong, which I think he had a lot of experience to draw from so it made it easy to understand."

"Wow, sounds like a wise guy, this second oldest brother of yours."

"Oh, he's a wise guy alright. But he's also really smart and funny and compassionate and tough…"

"OK, enough about that guy. Then what happened?"

"My oldest brother talked to me, too," Edgar hid a smile into his brother's chest.

"And I'm sure this oldest brother was also infinite in his wisdom and just as smart, funny, compassionate and tough and all those other things."

"Oh, he is," Edgar answered emphatically.

"Sounds like a stand-up guy. How did he handle all this trouble?"

"Well, he explained to me he understood what happened, that he was proud of me for some things but pretty disappointed in some other things."

"Mmmm…"

"My oldest brother did a pretty good job of explaining that he couldn't let these things go and he punished me."

"Not too harshly, I hope."

"No, he's always very fair and sometimes kind when he punishes me. He tells me exactly what's gonna happen and why and he always gives me a chance to ask questions if I have any."

"So what was the punishment?"

"I have to write an essay and he spanked me."

"The guy sounds like a jerk."

Edgar playful punched his brother's chest, "He's not a jerk."

"Was the spanking awful?"

"Yeah," Edgar admitted, "Hurt a lot."

Sig squeezed the arm placed around Edgar's shoulders tightly, "Are you OK? Hurting still?" _What a stupid question to ask the kid. Of course he's still hurting. Now I have Norman not hurting and Edgar hurting - I just can't win._

"Yes," Edgar answered shyly, wanting to rub some of the lingering sting away.

"If it helps you any, I'm sure your oldest brother feels terrible about it and wishes the hurt will go away quickly"

"I wish he wouldn't feel terrible anymore because it's over."

"Did this jerk of an oldest brother tell you everything was forgiven?"

"Yes, before he punished me which meant a lot."

"Were you angry with him after it was over?"

"No, but I was ashamed he was so disappointed in me that I pulled away from him when he tried to comfort me afterwards. Then I felt worse because I thought I missed my chance."

"Chance at what?"

"To feel safe."

"Did you miss your chance?"

"No, turns out I didn't. I feel very safe now."

"Did this guy happen to mention how much he loves you?'

"He told me three times today, if you include the note this morning, so yes."

"He must love you an awful lot."

"He does. And I love him. I want to be just like him someday."

Sig's chest swelled with a strange, marvelous feeling and there was nothing else he could say. As the room got quiet, Sig stroked his brother's hair and eventually heard even breathing coming from his kid brother. Listening to the sound, Sig kept his arm wrapped around Edgar and felt strong enough to stop all the bad things from happening ever again.

Sadly, the worst was yet to come. Maybe there's still time to knock on wood.

End Part 2

A/N: Part 3 coming next – it's time to finally deal with "The Shack." But first, some fluff and a few nice days at the lake. Next chapter will be out shortly.


	35. Waiting

Part Three

**WARNING****: Big time warning here – there is a violent dream sequence towards the end of this chapter. It contains foul language, child abuse, emotional abuse and violence. Please feel free to skip it (it is in italics and easily identified) and you won't miss a thing – the dream only reflects Edgar's guilt and worry. All other warnings have been disclosed in previous chapters.**

* * *

"Why'd we have to brush our teeth before coming to the dentist?" Norman complained as he and his brothers sat in the empty waiting room, "The lady's only gonna brush them again anyway."

"I don't know, Norman," Sig said causally as he flipped through the People magazine, his eyes occasionally drifting over to watch his youngest brother's movements. "Just be happy you got out of the house for a while!"

Edgar wandered around the small waiting room, decorated with overly large sofas, chairs and end tables. The soft lighting and elevator music were designed to relax the patients but they only made the wait for him seem longer. As he studied the diplomas and certifications on the wall, all he could think about was the many times he came here with his mother. The box of old toys and children's books had been there unchanged for years, never any new additions added to the pile, and he could vividly remember sitting on his mother's lap as she read The Runaway Bunny to him when he was little.

The Hansen family had been coming to see Dr. Krupp as long as Sig could remember. Dr. Krupp ran a small office with only one dental assistant, Monica, and served one patient at a time. It made for a slow but personal process that mom seemed to appreciate, often saying the only people she wanted touching the inside of her mouth were people that knew her by her first name and made the effort to remember her when she passed them on the sidewalk.

"Mom always made us brush before we came here," Edgar said absentmindedly as he peeked around the corner and down the short hallway that lead to the dentist's chair.

Norman slowly reached over to the end table and grabbed a copy of Sport Illustrated, Pete Rose in his Cardinals uniform on the cover. "I got a twenty minute shower today," he announced proudly, effectively dodging the topic of mom. "I could have stayed in there all day."

"Amanda stopping by must have had something to do with that," Sig rolled his eyes, shifting the magazine to glance over the top.

"She brought chocolate chip cookies," Edgar seemed pleased with the offering that only he had a chance to enjoy so far.

"Did you leave any for me?" Norman grumbled, still plagued with a bland diet for the next few days, "Or should I tell the dentist to search for cookie crumbs behind your molars?"

Edgar flashed his older brother a guilty and humble smile, "I love her chocolate cookies."

"So do I," Norman glared back, "Too bad they'll all be gone by the time I can eat one."

"I'm sure she'll make more if you ask her," Sig intervened, "What did you and Amanda do while she was over." _Please tell me you kept your dick in your pants for once._

Edgar jumped in, "They laid in bed and made kissy noises. I could hear all the way in my room."

"We hung out," Norman said defensively, "That's IT. Geez, she only stopped over for an hour before she had to go to work."

"A lot can happen in an hour," Sig said without looking up from his magazine.

"A lot of what?" Norman slapped the magazine against his knee, "What did you think we were doing? Do you forget that I just had surgery three days ago?"

Sig humped loudly, "I know you, Norman. You can be pretty creative. You'd find a way."

If Edgar hadn't been lurking around the office, Norman would have agreed with Sig. But he caught the faint blush on Edgar's face, recent events from Amanda's powder room still fresh in everyone's mind. Instead, Norman only looked back at his magazine and pretended to ignore his older brother's insinuations. When Edgar's back was turned, Sig glanced over at Norman and a knowing look passed between them, followed by a quick smile and wink from the middle brother.

Placing the People magazine down on the coffee table, Sig stood up and stretched out his neck and shoulders. He groaned softly, his stiff muscles causing him to grimace as he rubbed at his right shoulder.

"How was work?" Edgar asked softly, still scoping the office walls like he was interested in dental medicine. _Sig's obviously in pain so it must have sucked today. _

"I painted a boat from bow to stern today. My shoulders are finally feeling every stroke," Sig smiled, "But I got 'er done. She'll be back in the water tomorrow."

"White, no doubt," Norman added, tipping his head in Sig's direction and indicating the splatters of white paint all over his older brother's work shirt and tan pants. Sig even had bits of paint on his forehead and in his blond hair.

Sig looked down at himself, embarrassed to come to the dentist in such a state. _Mom would have given me an earful coming here like this. But I had to make a few errands right after work and I didn't have time to change before our appointments. _"Not all of us got to languish in the shower half the day, Norman," he said in his defense.

"What kind of boat was it?' Edgar asked in a curious voice.

"A crabber, like ours," Sig said, "The Big Valley."

"She's been around for a while," Norman looked up, recognizing the name, "How's Capt. Edwards?"

"Good, he's keeping her in good shape, getting her ready for King Crab season. He even added a new crane and boom and had all the hydraulics upgraded," Sig answered, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. He could talk boats and fishing all day long if people let him.

"Dad's not gonna like that," Norman muttered, "He's been wanting to add a new crane for a while now. You know how the captains get, bragging about all their new toys and rubbing it each other's faces."

Edgar didn't want to hear talk about the King Crab season or upgrading boats and he was sorry he brought the conversation up at all. Needless to say, he was glad to see Monica coming out of the office with her nurse's shirt of American flags and a blue face shield around her neck.

As she entered the waiting room, she smiled and asked pleasantly, "OK guys, which one of you is up first?" Both Monica and Dr. Krupp had come to mom's viewing to pay their respects so no explanations were needed as to why mom was not with them this visit. Sig remembered how surprised and touched he was when both the dentist and his assistant showed up next in the family's receiving line as they stood next to mom's casket. _Maybe there is something to having the people in your life who take the time to know your first name_.

As Norman made a gingerly motion to stand, Edgar answered, "Me."

"Well, let's take a look at those teeth," Monica motioned her hand down the hallway as she took Edgar's file off the incoming shelf by the front desk. Edgar followed her down the hallway but not before turning and giving Norman an apologetic smile.

Norman watched his younger brother disappear around the corner and he slid back in his seat, "Figures he'd go first."

"He's terrible at waiting, Norman," Sig sat back down, this time next to his brother on the sofa. He leaned back, resting his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes for a minute.

"Wonder where he gets that from?" Norman eyed his brother, twisting the class ring on his finger.

Sig smiled, "I'm not as bad as I used to be. Shit, today I'm so sore and tired, I don't mind just sitting here and doing nothing. I'll go last if it makes you feel better."

Sig rested his eyes for a time, Norman occasionally glancing over in his direction. With a sigh, Norman couldn't help but feel sorry for his older brother. _I know you've been through a lot lately and it makes me feel even worse that you had to go to work while I get to stay home and cuddle with my girlfriend. And to add injury to insult, you had to deal with a difficult situation last night. _

"Rough few days, huh?" Norman asked as he glanced at the ring. He had become attached to feeling of the heavy metal around his finger at an alarming rate and didn't want to think about the loss of giving it back. _I'm still hurting but it's better than yesterday and the stitches are already starting to itch. The stairs weren't nearly as difficult getting down this time so it won't be long before I'm back to normal and ring will go back to its rightful owner. Probably be the only time in my life I get to wear a class ring. _

Sig didn't open his eyes but answered, "Yeah, there have been a few moments over the last few days that I'd as just as well forget." _Jesus, that's an understatement_. Thinking about one moment in particular, Sig asked hesitantly, "How was Edgar today?"

Norman glanced over at his brother's profile. _I was wondering how long it would take before you asked me that question_. "Fine," Norman answered, "Quieter than usual."

"Did he happen to work on his essay today?"

"He spent most of the day hiding in his room so who knows," Norman smiled, "Where'd you come up with that idea, anyway? It's freaking brilliant."

"Just somebody I used to know," Sig's answer was vague but Norman had a good guess as to whom that someone was. _Sara_.

"I figured you thought it up on your own," Norman mentioned, a little disappointed Sig hadn't.

"I'm not that good, bro," Sig muttered, putting a dent in Norman's high opinion of him. _Sara's parents always made her write when she got in trouble. Most of the time, she got in trouble on my account and I'd feel so bad, I'd write the damn essay for her. Maybe I wasn't a good enough writer to keep around. I'd be shocked if her new jock boyfriend knew how to string three words together._ "Was Edgar upset about the essay? Did he say anything to you?" Sig asked, concern playing in his voice. _Why was he quieter than normal today? Maybe he's mad at me after all._

"I think he's in shock he has to pick up a pen this summer. But he didn't say hardly anything to me today. Just did his chores and checked on me every now and then. Although, he did perk up when Amanda came over and she fawned more over him than me," Norman sounded like a jealous boyfriend.

Sig laughed, "He likes Amanda. She's the closest thing he has to a sister."

"Yeah, but I'm the one that's sick," Norman whined, "Why does he always get all the attention?"

Sig turned his head, giving Norman a cold stare, "Really? It's been all about YOU for the last three days. We've waited on you hand and foot and put up with your shit. Just give it a rest, will ya. You sound like a spoiled brat."

Norman rolled his eyes but his brother's words were just the reality check he needed. "I think Amanda always wanted a little brother. That's why she's so attached to Edgar. Maybe I'll let her take him."

"No…he's all ours," Sig smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. The smile faded quickly and he added, "He didn't say anything to you at all about yesterday?"

"Not really," Norman answered carefully, "All he said about it was to ask me if I slept OK, which I did. Did you…sleep OK?" _Please tell me you stayed with him because I was out like a light and you were gone by the time I woke up._

"I stayed with him if that's what you're asking," Sig rubbed at his eyes and lifted his head up straight, "And I'm glad I did. He was…upset." He didn't know a better way to describe Edgar's demeanor before and after the spanking.

"How so?" Norman got the feeling Sig needed to share something but didn't know where to start.

Sig picked at the dry paint on his pants, "He was…jittery, nervous almost." _Like a scared rabbit, waiting for the trap to close in around the carrot._

"That's makes sense, all things considered," Norman reassured his brother. _I'd be nervous too if my much bigger, older brother was gonna give me a spanking. I know just how nervous the kid must have been from personal experience._

The paint on Sig's clothes started to flake off in small chunks and fall to the floor, "No, he was never like that before." Sig sat up, shifting his leg to rest his ankle on his knee and fiddle with the hem of his pants. He whispered although there was no one in the room. "I mean it's only the third time I've had to spank him but I only used my hand and I tried so damn hard to not make it any worse than it had to be. It ain't freaking easy to be comforting while you're lighting someone ass on fire. But he's never seemed afraid before…or after."

_Something is wrong with that statement but I just can't put my finger on it. My brother is broken up over this – just focus on that and stop playing the role of the defense attorney_. "Sig," Norman said softly and put a gentle hand on his brother's sore shoulder, "I'm sure…you did…everything you could." There was more Norman wanted to say but he had no idea how to communicate it. _I've never had to do that to someone I love but I trust that you did the right things all the way through it_. Norman withdrew his hand and started picking at the hangnails on his fingers.

Sig was still struggling despite the show of support, "I keep telling myself he wasn't like that because of me and I hope to God that's true. He's been jumpy since he found you in the bathroom and he can't seem to get past it. Last night, after it was over, he said something that's been bothering me all day. I didn't think about it at the time but now…" He kept picking at the paint on his pants and making scratching sounds against the rough fabric.

"What?" Norman wanted to slap his brother's hand to stop him from nervous actions.

"When it was over, he pulled away from me. Jesus, Norman, that fucking hurt. I know it sounds stupid, but afterwards, I feel like I need a hug as much as he does. Anyway, a few minutes later, he let me touch him and said he almost missed his chance to feel safe," Sig revealed the private moment. He felt guilty and embarrassed to share Edgar's personal thoughts with Norman but he desperately needed to tell him this and get another perspective. "I didn't think about it at the time but he said it like he doesn't feel safe already, like he never feels safe anymore. What do you think he meant by that?" Sig glanced over Norman, hoping to find some answers coming his way that would make sense and help him feel less like a monster.

"If you're thinking he meant 'with you,' you have another thing comin', bro," Norman said quickly, "He knows he's safe with us. We'll always protect him. Shit, we've looked for him since he was born."

"Of course we would. I'd do anything to protect him and I know you would too. But there are things we can't protect him from and we both know that all to freaking well, (_like coming home from school one day and finding our mother gone)._" Sig stood up and started pacing slowly, the sounds of water and spitting coming from down the hallway, "And it makes me feel like shit when I try to reassure him and tell him everything's gonna be OK because I don't know if that's true or not. I can't predict what's gonna happen. Hell, we almost lost you on top of losing mom. Dad's always in constant danger out there (Sig gestured to the waiting room's bay window as if the Bering Sea was right outside the door). And I don't know what the hell is gonna happen when dad gets home." Sig ran his hand over his hair, shaking some of the paint free, "I don't know what to do, Norman. I can't have him waiting around his whole life, afraid of the next bad thing like it's just around the corner. That's no way to live."

"So you tell him everything's gonna be OK and just believe in that," Norman leaned over, wincing slightly, and knocked on the wooden coffee table three times.

Sig listened to the knocking and was too superstitious to dismiss the gesture. Yet, he knew that the action had no real value when it came to whatever was bothering his youngest brother. "Do you think he should talk to someone?"

"He can talk to me or you anytime he wants," Norman cocked his head like a dog, not understanding the question.

Sig sat back down heavily, rubbing his rough palms against his thighs, "No, I mean a professional someone."

Norman took a second to soak in what Sig was asking. Furring his eyebrows, Norman became a little suspicious, "You told me you didn't think he was crazy. So why would he need to talk to someone like that?"

Pushing his mouth sideways, Sig explained that he spoke briefly with the doctor at the hospital and why there was a phone number on the back of Norman's discharge paperwork.

"I thought that was my follow up appointment to get these damn stitches out," Norman said as he remembered seeing the phone number and a 'Dr. Adler' written somewhere inside the manila envelope.

"No, that's information for a therapist…for Edgar. Do you think I should call and make an appointment?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes?"

"Let me ask you this. Edgar wants another dog. Did you know that?" Norman asked.

"Oh, yeah," Sig gave a half-hearted smile, "He asked me if we could get one. What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"And what did you say about the dog?" Norman asked undeterred. _Yes, I am asking the witness a leading question. So put me in contempt_.

Sig sighed, "What could I say?" as he threw his hands up, "I dodged the question. Dad would never allow it and I hate to break Edgar's heart. If it were up to me, we'd go down to the pound right now and get a dog."

"So you didn't say yes because of dad…because it's his decision?" _Leading again, I know. Sue me if you want._

"Yes," Sig admitted slowly, turning his head in Norman's direction and glaring at his brother. _I hate when he uses the same tricks I do because I know where this is going. Still, I'm holding my ground here_.

"Well, don't you think Edgar seeing a therapist would be a decision for dad to make?" Norman asked, "Same principal as the dog…another long term decision that dad has to pay for." _I know you're gonna be pissed at this Sig but I can't stand to see you get in trouble with dad_.

Sig didn't think about a diplomatic response as he was fueled by annoyance. "Do you really think dad would ever agree to something like that? Jesus, the Old Man thinks that stuff is a bunch of shit for babies," Sig defended his position, "If I'm in charge this summer, I should be able to make the decisions for everyone's wellbeing, this kind of thing included. There WAS a reason they made me sign my name nine hundred times at the hospital, for Christ's sake. I made those decisions. How is this different?"

"That was an emergency, Sig," Norman said softly. _It's not that I don't agree with you. I know you met with the school counselor every week of your senior year and I'm fucking grateful you did because I couldn't handle your…depression…or whatever the fuck that was over Sara…by myself. And I know the counselor helped you when mom died because she tried to help me once and I skipped out on her and hid in the library. But this is different. Edgar is a different situation. _"Whatever is going on with Edgar is not an emergency. He'll talk about it eventually…with you or me. Because we're all he needs," Norman finished with a firm nod.

"He needs mom," Sig said under his breath, feeling the stark sadness of the statement, "He told her everything…and as much as we are trying to fill her shoes now, we'll never be her."

"No one could be," Norman looked around the office and could picture his mother sitting across from him, reading to Edgar and occasionally smiling over at him. _It is so fucking weird to be here without her_.

Sig was having his own flashbacks of the time spent in the waiting room. _She was so good at waiting, so much patience with three rambunctious boys. She always kept us entertained and made us feel safe, especially when we were little and the dentist chair seemed so big and scary. God, mom, why can't you be here now? Why?..._ After a while, Sig leaned over and nudged Norman with his shoulder. Norman just hung his head and nudged his brother back. On a normal day, this action would have started a war. Today, it was their way of communicating the hurt they were both feeling inside and letting each other know they were having the same thoughts, the same painful regrets.

The older brothers stayed quiet for some time, Sig resting his eyes and Norman getting the latest baseball news on the trade deadlines.

So much time of silence passed between them, Sig was surprised when Norman returned to their original discussion, "No therapist, Sig. He's gonna think something's wrong with him and, knowing him, he'll freak out if he thinks we think that too. You get what I'm saying?"

Sig wanted to lecture his younger brother on who was running the ship this summer and ask him if he needed a reminder but he didn't. _I've asked for Norman's advice on almost everything. He's had to counsel me enough times over the past two weeks so I shouldn't be resentful of his opinion. I just don't want it right now and I'm sorry I asked_. "I'll think it over this week," Sig muttered, "But, in the end, it's my decision."

"I'll have to remember that when dad gets home," Norman didn't bother to hide the hurt in his voice. _I thought we were in this together. Now you're the boss when you don't agree with me. I see how it is gonna be. _

During the wait, Sig and Norman had managed to reassure each other, bond over the loss of their mother and hurt each other's feelings. There was no time to make amends because Edgar showed up back in the waiting room with Monica, new toothbrush in hand and a smile on his face.

"Perfect checkup," Monica announced, looking in Sig's direction, "He needs to floss a little more and start using a fluoride rinse but no cavities and all the new molars are coming in just fine."

"Will he need braces?" Sig asked quickly, a strange and worried look crossing his face. _Please don't let him have to go through what I went through_.

Edgar's smile faded and he turned to Monica with a look of dread.

"Not right now," Monica said and Edgar's smile returned, "But we're not ruling it out for the future. His front teeth are crisscrossing a little and we'll have to wait and see how much room the back teeth leave when they come in."

Sig was relieved and nervous at the same time. _Middle school is the worse place for braces but high school ain't much better_. Still, he flashed his youngest brother a smile and praised him on the perfect checkup.

"Can we go to Nifty Fifties?" Edgar asked hopefully. _Mom always took us there when we had good checkups_.

"Not this time," Sig smiled sympathetically, "There's somewhere else we have to go on the way home. Plus Norman ain't up for burgers and creamy milkshakes just yet."

"OK, which one of you fine gentlemen are next?" Monica asked cheerfully.

"That would be me," Norman announced, getting up from the sofa with a wince and an overly loud groan.

"What's wrong with you, young man?" Monica asked when she saw the painful movements.

Norman proudly regaled Monica with the tale of his recent surgery like it was a battle he fought and won. As they walked down the hallway, Norman even asked Monica if she'd like to see his stitches. Her laughter was the last thing Sig heard before the office door shut.

"Where we going, Sig?" Edgar asked as he took the place recently vacated by his older brother.

"You'll find out soon enough," Sig said as he ruffled his brother's hair, "Maybe I'll take you to the barber and get some of that mop cut off."

Edgar wrinkled his nose at his oldest brother in disgust, "I like my hair long."

"Pretty soon you'll be able to put it up in a ponytail," Sig said as he tried to pull his brother's hair back, "I can buy you those little twisties with the plastic dice on the end of them."

Edgar pushed his brother's hand away from his hair, "Mom always wished I was a girl. Don't you start now, too."

Sig laughed, "It's gotta get cut before school. Just remember that."

"Where we going really?" Edgar persisted.

"We just have to make a stop on the way home. Don't worry about it. It's nothing bad," Sig said quietly.

Edgar was temporarily appeased with that information, trusting that Sig would always tell him if something bad was about to happen. He settled into the sofa but kept the same distance between he and Sig as Norman and Sig had kept between each other.

"How was your day?" Sig tried to make the question sound casual. _Why are you sitting so far away from me?_

Edgar shrugged, "Fine." He leaned back and put his feet up on the coffee table. One stern look from his oldest brother and he quickly put them back on the floor.

"Did you work on your essay?" Sig asked as he leaned over to look at today's newspaper.

Edgar bit at his lip, "I tried."

"Please don't tell me you're gonna wait till Thursday night to start it," Sig cocked an eyebrow. _So many of my friends from school did that and I never understood it. Why stress yourself out waiting till the last minute? Just get it done and over with. _

"No, I wrote some today," Edgar answered honestly. _No lie but I doubt he'd be pleased to know I only wrote two sentences and stopped. I just don't know what to say so I sat around all day waiting for the words to come. They didn't_.

"Good, I'm glad to hear you started it. First few lines are always the hardest," Sig encouraged his brother, "Edgar…" Sig inched closer and closed the gap between them, "…I'm not grading the darn thing. Just telling me what you're thinking, share your ideas or thoughts. It doesn't have to be perfect."

"What happens if I don't get it done by Friday night?" Edgar asked shyly, needing to know what kind of consequences he was up against.

"Then you'll have lots of time to work on it this weekend because you'll be grounded," Sig said evenly. He kept his tone flat and calm, not scolding or threatening in nature but simply stating the facts.

Edgar nodded and acknowledged the answer. _It's a fair punishment and one I cannot afford. I have to go back to the Shack this weekend and I can't be grounded. Damn, it's bad enough I'll have to lie and probably break my curfew. I don't want to add breaking my grounding, too. That would be freaking awesome; refuse to write the essay, get grounded, disobey my brother and throw everything he's done for me back in his face. Sig's liable to put me in a boy's home, Norman driving me there the whole way. That's all the motivation I need to get my butt in gear and write. _

"You'll get it done, Edgar," Sig said softly, "I'm not worried."

Edgar gave his brother a half-hearted smile. _I am. I can't write for shit and I'm worried your expectations are too high. I'm not as smart as you and Norman but you guys just won't believe me. Half the reason I can't write this is because I'm worried you'll be disappointed in me._ "I took the food over to Mr. Steward like you asked me too. He didn't want it but I left it on the kitchen table anyway," Edgar said, pushing away the thoughts of the essay and the upcoming weekend.

"Thanks for doing that," Sig said, "He may not seem like it but he appreciates it. I picked up the stuff on my way home and it helped a lot that you took it over while I got dinner ready. We were cuttin' it close to get here on time."

"You got stuff for more than just Mr. Steward," Edgar commented, "Why? We just went to the store."

"What kind of stuff did you see while you were putting things away?" Sig teased out the answer. _I can't believe you didn't figure this out already_.

Edgar had to think for a minute about what was in the bags he unpacked. He recalled, "Hot dogs, hamburgers, rolls, chips, graham crackers, marshmallows…" Sig could almost see a light go off over his brother's head, albeit with a dimmer switch. "…chocolate bars, peanut butter…." Edgar stopped making his list and turned dancing green eyes towards Sig, "Are we going somewhere?" he asked excitedly.

"Where would you need graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars…and the fishing poles I got out of the basement when you were over at Mr. Steward's house?" Sig asked with a full grin.

Edgar must have figured it out because he closed the space between so tightly not even the King of Hearts card could come between them. He flung his arms around his oldest brother's neck and squeezed him, practically jumping in Sig's lap. "WE'RE GOING TO THE LAKE!"

"Yep, tomorrow morning," Sig hugged his brother back, grateful for the first show of affection between them since last night, "You up for it?"

"Hell, yeah," Edgar answered.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, I'm up for it," Edgar corrected himself, "Will Norman be?" he asked concerned. _We all go or none of us goes. That's the way it always was_.

"Well, the tough guy will have to behave himself and take it easy or we'll just have to tie him to the boat and set it adrift," Sig laughed as he ran his hand over the back of Edgar's neck, his thumb rubbing small circles under his soft hair. _Jesus, I'm glad to see him happy_.

"That's where we're going after this. That's why we brought the truck. We're going to get the dingy out of storage," Edgar announced proudly, pleased with himself for figuring it out on his own.

"Yep," Sig answered.

"Will you let me steer the boat?" Edgar pleaded, "Please." He sat back but Sig put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him to his side.

"Ahh," Sig said slowly, "We'll see."

"I never get to steer the boat," Edgar whined as he recognized his request was being brushed off. Still, he laid down on the sofa and rested his head on Sig's knee, facing away from him. Sig stroked the soft hair on his brother's head while they talked.

"Someday you will," Sig said gently.

"Like when I'm 42 and an old man."

"That sounds about right," Sig teased his brother but put a hand on his shoulder.

Edgar whined for a brief time about being old enough to steer the boat till Sig reminded him they would light a camp fire by the beach at night and cook hotdogs till they were charred black. This satisfied the youngest Hansen for the time being. The two of them made plans to put the cab on the truck while keeping Norman from trying to help as well as where they would stop for breakfast and the first place they'd fish on the lake. Edgar promised to pack a bag for himself and Norman while Sig loaded the truck tonight.

By the time Norman came out of the office, Edgar was smiling from ear to ear and seemed to be keeping a happy secret.

"How's the patient?" Sig asked Monica, playing on the word that seemed to fit his younger brother so well lately.

"Another perfect checkup," Monica nodded her head, "You boys must be doing a good job."

"We're hard workers, ma'am," Norman added and wondered why Edgar was looked so damn happy. _Maybe Sig lifted the essay sentence. Stick to your guns, big brother. No one ever got let off the hook in our house_.

"Well, there's only one left," Monica smiled at Sig, "Let's see if it's perfection all around."

Sig sighed and tapped Edgar on the back, indicating the kid had to sit up so he could leave. Edgar scooted over to make room for Norman and Sig walked off with the dental assistant.

The oldest brother was already anticipating that it would not be a trifecta of perfection. He hadn't said anything to anyone but he knew from the pain all the way in the back of his gums something wasn't right. As he followed Monica down the hallway and into the room, he greeted Dr. Krupp with a firm handshake.

"Hello, sir," Sig said, "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, son," the dentist said politely, the hint of pity in his eyes that Sig had grown to hate over the past six months, "How are you?"

"Just fine," Sig said as he settled into the chair and found himself looking up at the drop ceiling, "Thank you for taking care of my brothers."

"My pleasure," the dentist prepped his tools and changed his gloves, "I can remember when you all had baby teeth. Time flies, I guess."

"Before you start," Sig closed his eyes, unsure of how to ask the question, "How do I pay for this? Will you send a bill or…?"

"Don't you worry about that, son," the dentist said firmly, "It's covered by the Fisherman's Foundation so no need to worry."

Sig kept his eyes closed but opened his mouth and allowed the doctor and his assistant to do their job. _The Fisherman's Foundation_, he thought, _never thought we'd have to use that. Never thought mom would die, either. Guess that's how we qualified. Feels embarrassing but I guess I should just be grateful it's there for fishermen and their families in times of need. One day, if I'm ever rich and famous, I'll pay the favor back tenfold. _

When the dentist asked if anything was bothering him, Sig answered honestly about the occasional pain he's been experiencing. The dentist took X-rays and went off to develop them as Monica brushed and polished Sig's brace-free, perfect teeth.

When the dentist returned, he informed Sig of what the oldest brother had suspected all along. His wisdom teeth were coming in and pushing against his back molars, causing pain and irritation that would only get worse. The dentist warned it would not be long before they became impacted and recommended they come out as soon as possible. He provided the business card of an oral surgeon he trusted.

_Great. I can't afford this. I can't even afford to take the time off from work. I just got lucky to have a few days off because my buddy took off this week and weekend. Maybe Edgar's onto something. There IS always something bad just waiting around the corner_. "Please don't share this with my brothers," Sig asked Monica before they left the office. She nodded her understanding.

When Monica walked Sig back into the waiting room, it hit the loyal assistant she had no one 'above' Sig to report back too. Improvising, she addressed the youngest Hansen, "Your brother did an excellent job. Perfect checkup. You're doing a good job with him."

Sig laughed but Edgar grew serious. He said proudly, "I never have to remind him to brush his teeth."

Norman chuckled, holding his side tenderly, and got up from the sofa. Edgar had shared the news of their impending trip and had spent a majority of their wait lecturing Norman about behaving himself and taking it easy so that the three of them wouldn't have to come home earlier than planned. Norman was amused at the gentle scolding and agreed to be good, for the sake of his younger brother. He hid his excitement well, not wanting to look to 'girly' but deep down, he was very eager to get away for a while. _A trip to the lake – now that's just what the doctor ordered…for everyone in this family_.

The brothers made their goodbyes and Sig scheduled the next checkup in December, assuming he'd be home from King Crab season by then. Norman requested they stop at Dairy Queen so he could inform Amanda he'd been gone for a few days and Edgar got his vanilla milkshake after all.

The Dairy Queen was busy and Amanda could only visit their table a few times, Norman making several comments to her about her tight black workpants under his breath and she smacked his hand gently, warning him to behave himself. When it was time to leave, the brothers piled back into the truck and made the drive to the storage facility. Sig hooked up the dingy to the back of the truck and Norman grumbled about not having tested the single prop motor earlier. Sig ignored him and the boys drove home.

For the next hour or so, Edgar packed his things along with Norman's and Sig loaded the truck with their supplies, leaving the cold items in the frig till he went and got ice for the cooler in the morning. Sig and Edgar put the cab on the truck under Norman's critical eye and unwanted direction. Sig said something about Norman needing to take his medicine and go to bed.

As Norman left the garage, he groused, "Fine, I know when I'm not wanted." When he walked past the Trans Am, he paused and stared at the neon blue sports car. A strange look crossed Norman's face and Sig was instantly worried.

"What?" Sig asked, leaning to the side to see if he had a flat tire.

Norman shook himself off like he was shaking off a bed dream, "Just a nightmare I had last night."

"About my car?" Sig asked. _Nightmares can be signs. Please tell me my baby's OK_.

"Yeah," Norman whispered, "It was out to get me. It kept trying to kill me. Horrible thought to be murdered by a Pontiac."

Sig laughed, "Well, God knows you bad mouth her enough. Maybe you should start being nicer to her and she'll let you live."

Norman left the garage as quickly as someone with stitches in their stomach could move. After he'd gone, Edgar laughed and explained Norman's recent literature adventures with an author named 'something King' and a scary story about a car.

Cab securely on the truck and fishing gear packed up in the truck bed, Sig ran off to get a shower and get the paint chips out of his hair. Edgar closed up the garage and brought hot tea up to his older brother's room. Norman was back to lying in bed, covers spread all around him like the king of the castle.

"You know," Norman said as he watched another hot cup of tea come into his room, "I could get use to this."

"Did you take your medicine?" Edgar asked as he handed over the tea.

Norman nodded, "Remind me not to forget to bring it with me tomorrow. Sig would have my head if we got there and had to turn around to come back and get it."

Edgar stood in the middle of the room for a few moments, unsure of what to do with himself, and then announced he was going to bed.

"It's kinda early," Norman raised an eyebrow over his mug. The grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway chimed the start of nine bells to underscore Norman's point.

Edgar only shrugged and started to walk away.

"Edgar," Norman called the name softly, "Is something wrong? You've been pretty quiet all day."

"Just tired," Edgar answered and left quickly.

As he sipped his tea, Norman heard Edgar's bedroom door shut closed. _Tired, my ass. You're thirteen years old, you should be teeming with energy. No, something is bugging you, kid. I just haven't figured out what_. Having time to reflect on his conversation with Sig, Norman's mind started racing back over the last few days. _Sig seems to think whatever is up with Edgar started when I got sick but I think he's wrong._ Sig's words…_he's never been afraid before…or after_…came back to him.

"Edgar go to bed already?" Sig asked as he popped his wet head in Norman's room.

"Yeah," Norman put down his cup of tea, "Come here a minute. Shut the door."

Sig entered the room in just a towel and cut off shorts. He closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed, running the towel over his damp hair. Norman flipped on the TV and left the volume low to drown out the sound of their voices.

Norman waited for Sig to stop drying his hair. Then he whispered, "You're wrong."

Sig pulled the towel down over his shoulders, "Are we gonna talk about the therapist again because I'm done with that discussion."

"No," Norman shook his head, "Although I still think you're wrong about that. No, you're wrong about when Edgar started acting jittery and nervous. You said he started acting funny when he found me in the bathroom but it was before that."

Sig sighed, "No offense, Norman, but you didn't see him and how he reacted. I'm not blaming you. I'm just sayin'…"

Norman waved his hand out in front of him, stopping his brother. "No, it was before that. You told me Friday night after you punished him for smoking, he said something about being so afraid. It freaked you out. Don't you remember that?"

_That look on his face, the one that reminded me of the haunted house all those years ago. How could I forget? It did freak me out. Actually, it scared the shit out of me. A lot of things happened between then and now and I guess I just pushed it away_. "He told me he was afraid you would hate him," Sig's voice sounded far away, like he was in a different place and time.

"Yeah, but even afterwards, you didn't believe it was just that," Norman helped his brother recall the moment, "And I don't either."

"So what is it?" Sig looked lost.

"I don't know," Norman said, feeling as lost as the look on his brother's face, "All I know is that it wasn't just me being mad about the smoking or getting sick. Something must have happened before that."

Sig racked his brain, trying to think of a logical reason, an event he'd forgotten about but, in the end, he came up empty. Norman's conclusion on the timing of events didn't help him. If anything, it made matters worse because now Sig couldn't explain away Edgar's demeanor as a result of Norman's illness. "I can't think of anything. Before he got caught smoking, everything seemed OK. What made you remember that, anyway?"

"Just thinking about what you said in the hospital and in the dentist's office. That and I have a very good memory," Norman said, adding, "And I read a lot of mysteries."

"So what's the answer, then, smart ass," Sig frowned, "Cause I sure as hell got nothing."

"I wish I knew."

* * *

After checking all the doors and windows, Sig crawled into his own bed and burrowed under the covers. _Wow, how long has it been since I've spent the whole night in my own bed? Edgar's bed last night, Norman's bed the night before, the hospital the night before that and the sofa the night before the hospital_. As he drifted off the sleep, Sig tried to forget about all those nights and focus on the upcoming trip. He was excited. It had been a while since they had been to the lake and he was looking forward to two days of bliss and relaxation. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep thinking of sparkling waters, buzzing dragonflies and the sounds of the fish splashing around the boat.

Norman turned off the TV and fell asleep quickly, the short trip outside surprisingly draining him of his energy. _Too much time lying around in bed and I'm already getting soft. Maybe I can sneak a few dumbbells into the back of the truck_.

The last person in the house to fall asleep was Edgar. He listened to his brothers getting ready for bed and soon things in the house got quiet. Staring at a blank piece of paper, he decided to try writing the essay again, ditching his original two sentences and starting over. After an hour, he gave up and put his notebook back into his school backpack which had been tossed in the bottom of his closet since the last day of school.

I can't write an essay about brothers because all I can think about is the Shack. _God, what happens if Sig finds out? He'll never forgive me. He won't understand that I need to protect this family too. All he's gonna see is that I lied to him and I broke my promise. It can't keep going like this. I have to do something because I can't keep escaping every weekend and lying to my brothers about where I am. But I can't put them in danger, either. Why didn't I just tell them from the beginning? Sig was right to ask me if I trust him when we were at the playground. I should have trusted him to know how to take care of this. Instead, I wanted to handle the big things myself and now I'm in too deep. I ain't afraid of the punishment I'll get if he finds out and I ain't afraid of getting hurt by those guys down there…well, a little of both, I guess. But nothing scares me more than Sig being so disappointed in me that he'll never look at me the same again. I don't know what's right anymore. If I'm doing the right thing by lying, why do I feel so guilty. It hurts._

Edgar was so deep in his thoughts, he hadn't realized that he was rubbing so hard at his cheek till it started to burn his hand. Disgusted with himself for thinking what he perceived as thoughts of weakness and failure, he flipped off the light in his room and curled up under the covers of his bed. Instead of the lake and a wonderful vacation, the Shack was the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep

* * *

******** Edgar's Nightmare********

_It's like I'm floating above myself. There I am, sitting at our kitchen table doing nothing. I'm just sitting there staring at the back door. It's like I'm waiting…_

_The back door flies open and slams against the kitchen cabinets, sending the car keys flying everywhere. Sig is standing there wearing his work uniform, his blue eyes filled with rage and I can tell he knows everything. He crosses the kitchen in three strides and grabs me by the back of my hair, lifting me off the chair and slams me up against the refrigerator._

_He's so close to me I can feel his breath against my ear. This is my brother, the guy that's supposed to protect me, the guy that tells me all the time he loves me. I know it's him because I can smell Polo cologne, coffee and the faint hint of Downy fabric softener that Norman uses when he does the laundry. Yet, Sig seems taller, bigger and so mean I hardly recognize him. His eyes are cold and devoid of any love or compassion. There's only hatred and bitter disappointment._

"_You fucking little bastard," he screams in my face, "You went down there again after I told you not too."_

"_Sig," My voice sounds muffled and strange, "Please…let me explain…"_

_My brother backhands me across my face, causing me to stumble away from him. The sting across my cheek is nothing compared to the intense fear inside my chest. I try to get away from him but he lurches forward and grabs my by the scruff of my neck. "Let you explain," He says and then laughs at me, "What and give you another chance to lie to my face." _

_I burst out in tears, "Pleeeassse, Sig, please…I had too." I'm crying so hard my whole body is shaking and I try to cower to the floor. The tears only seem to make him angrier._

"_God, you're such a fucking pussy. Little fucking baby, always wanting hugs and needing to be loved," he spits out as he pushed me to the end of the table, knocking the chair out of the way, "Man up, Edgar. Stop acting like a girl and be a fucking man instead of the wuss that you are. I was wrong to spare the strap on you. It did nothing but baby you. Let's correct that, shall we." He squeezes the back of my neck, causing me to wince and he seems to growl at the sign of weakness. _

_I know exactly position I'm in because I've been here before. My brother is gonna lick me across the kitchen table just like dad. Except dad never hit me across my face or cursed at me like this. Even when he was mad, he never pushed me around and I'm scared out of my mind._

"_Sig," I choke out, "But you promised." I don't know why I'm bothering to try and save myself but I'm desperate, frightened and don't know what else to do. _

_My brother leans against me, holding me across the table, and hisses in my ear, "You promised me you'd never go back there. What happened to that promise? So you didn't keep yours…why the fuck should I keep mine?"_

_He releases his hold on me and I try to get away but he grabs me by the arm and digs his fingers into my flesh. "Drop the pants and bend over the table, Edgar. You know how this works or have you forgotten?"_

"_Please, Sig…." _

"_DO IT," he screams in my ear, twisting my forearm so hard the skin starts to turn red, "Or so help me God, you'll get double what's coming to you for being a baby and not taking it like a man."_

_My hands are trembling so badly it's difficult to get the button undone but I'm too frightened to disobey him. I barely get the jeans unbuttoned when Sig rips them down and bends me over the table. I grab onto the sides, my cheek pressed against the smooth wood. As he's holding me down with one hand, he uses the other to rip down my boxers to my knees and the cold air over the exposed flesh sends a chill through me. I gasp a loud noise but he only laughs._

"_What? You think I'd show you the least bit of mercy. God, you're pathetic," he says in a low voice. _

_Inside I'm panicking. I don't think I can take this. I beg him one last time, "Sig…pplease…ja…ja…just talk to me…like always…ask me questions…ttttell me what's going on." I don't sound like this. This isn't me. This isn't my voice. _

"_There isn't anything you have to say that I want to hear and I have nothing to say to you except that you are nothing but a disappointment to me. You're a disgrace to this family. No wonder mom died. It was her only chance to get away," The hand on my back is gone but it doesn't matter. I'm broken, my brother's words taking all the fight out of me. I don't care anymore what happens. Tears are running down my face and splattering against the wooden table as I hear the pantry door opening. The door slams shut and I can see my brother bending the leather strap, holding both tails in his hand. _

"_How many?" I asked in spite of myself._

"_Till my arm gets tired," is the __cold reply._

"_I'mm ssssorrrry, Sig"_

"_Oh, you'll be sorry. Sorry you ever lied to me," he taps the leather against my bare flesh and my whole body shutters with fear. He must see me shaking because his hisses, his hard voice saying, "You're not even worth the effort."_

_I whisper, "You love me…I know you do. You told me."_

_He leans over me and whispers in my ear, "Lying must run in the family." Pulling his arm back, the leather makes a deafening snap against my…_

* * *

Edgar jumped so hard the entire bed shook and sent the pillow sailing to the floor. He sat up with a start, his heart palpitating inside his small chest and cold sweat running down his forehead. His hands were visibly shaking and he tried to control his rapid breathing as he looked around his dark room, finding comfort in the familiar surroundings.

_It was just dream. Just a dream…_he kept telling himself again and again, intense relief washing over him. _Sig doesn't know and he'll never find out. He'd never do that to me even if he did…right? He'd never treat me that way…no matter how upset he was. I'm sure of it…I think._

Still, Edgar couldn't go back to sleep, too frightened to lie back down and close his eyes. _I need my brothers. Maybe if I'm with them, the nightmares will go away_. He hesitated, the dream too fresh in his mind and the thought of being considered 'a baby' almost stopping him. Norman's voice floated through his ears – _never be afraid to tell us you need something. We'll always be here for you_.

Edgar wrapped his blanket around his arm, picked up his pillow and left his room. He turned on the hallway light and walked quietly down the carpet till he got to Norman's room. He paused in front of Norman's door. _He's still sick…I can't bother him. _

That left only one other choice – Sig. _It was just a dream. He does love me_. Edgar hesitated again, too frightened to go back to his room and just as scared to move on to the next bedroom door. Fate intervened again on behalf of the youngest Hansen because Sig's bedroom door opened suddenly and the oldest Hansen peaked out into the hallway.

Edgar jumped at the sound of the door handle and froze in place.

"Hey," Sig rubbed his eyes at the light, "I expected to find Norman fumbling his way to the bathroom. What are you doing in the hallway?" _Geez, he looks just like that little kid I used to know, standing there in his pajama bottoms and holding his blanket and pillow, proudly trudging his way into mom's room._

Edgar didn't know what to say. _'I had a bad dream' was only going to bring more questions and I'd have to lie again to my brother. 'I was lonely' makes me sound like a girl_. All he could do was shrug his shoulders and look at the floor.

"Can't wait till tomorrow? Are you that excited about the lake?" Sig asked, coming up with something that would explain his brother's unexpected trip down the hallway.

"I guess," Edgar answered. _Not a lie – I am excited._

"Well, try to go back to bed. It's only 1:00 am. We have a few hours before we have to leave," Sig gave the kid a smile, "Goodnight, Edgar."

Sig disappeared into the dark bedroom and was about to shut the door when he heard his name.

"Sig?" _Please don't leave._

"Yeah?" he asked as he came back into the hallway.

"Can I sleep on your floor?"

"Ah, sure," Sig answered and watched his youngest brother barrel into his room like there was a monster right behind him. From the light in the hallway, Sig stood and watched Edgar make his little cocoon on the floor in his room. When he was done, he got under the covers and curled up in a tight ball.

Sig just continued standing there, holding onto his bedroom door. _This is yet another interesting development in the never-ending game of 'what's wrong with Edgar.' Let's see. What are my options? He's upset because we went to the dentist without mom. Or it could be he's upset about mom in general. Or the ever popular middle brother who always seems to cause us a great deal of worry. And, of course, I just spanked him last night and paddled him several nights before and he hates me and is afraid to tell me. I give up. I'm just going with what he needs and I'm going to stop torturing myself to figure out why he needs it_.

Leaving the door open a crack and letting in a sliver of light, Sig stepped over Edgar and grabbed the pillow off his bed. He tossed it on the floor next to Edgar and laid down. Edgar was on his side facing the wall and Sig turned on his side, facing the same direction.

When he heard his brother start to cry, Sig took the risk of being rejected and put his arm around his brother, pulling him over to his side. Edgar's back was now up against Sig's chest, Sig's arm wrapped around him. Edgar didn't pull away but only wiggled closer to the safest thing in his world.

Sig didn't ask Edgar why he was crying, although he wanted to bombard him with questions. He just kept quiet and waited for the time Edgar would finally tell him what was wrong. Sig held his brother until they both fell into a dreamless sleep. In the end, Sig spent another night NOT in his bed and still waiting for answers.

~tbc


	36. Red Sky At Night

By the time Sig woke up, Edgar was gone, his blanket and pillow the only things left behind. As he looked out his bedroom window, Sig could tell it was still very early but the low voices coming from the kitchen were all the motivation he needed to get up off the floor and start the day.

Yet, he rolled on his back, put his hands behind his head and stared up the ceiling.

_I need a minute to think before I slap on my 'everything's gonna be OK' smile. What the hell happened last night? My little brother is crying himself to sleep now? When the hell did that start? God, that breaks my heart. What happened to the happy-go-lucky kid that used to annoy me with his constant upbeat mood? I'd give anything to get that kid back._

_And what was he doing in the hallway, standing there like a contestant on Let's Make A Deal and trying to decide which of the three doors to choose. Expect Edgar looked like he expected a Zonk behind every door. He clearly didn't want to be alone so his own room was out – so much for door number 1. Norman is still licking his wounds and Edgar seemed hesitant to bother him – so much for door number 2. That left me - so what the hell was wrong with door number 3? _

Sig tortured himself for five full minutes, wondering if Edgar considered him 'like dad' now that he had the title of 'sir' for the summer. _Is he hesitant to ask for reassurance or comfort in the middle of the night?_ When that thought was too painful, Sig soothed himself by thinking that perhaps Edgar didn't want to disturb him because he worked all day.

_But I've told him ten times that doesn't matter. He could have woken me up, I wouldn't have cared. Actually, I would have been happy, even if I was dead tired, because I'm still trying to get through to him that he can ask or tell me anything he wants. It was just by luck that I saw the hallway light turn on. Must be my new 'parental' radar kicking in and picking up on a teenager sneaking around the house in the middle of the night. _

_But it's not about me, is it? It's about him and whatever is going on in that 'still-developing-my-higher-level-functions' brain of his. I'm not torturing myself anymore. He'll talk when he's ready and all I can do until then is make myself as approachable and open as possible…just like mom used to be. Let's just go and have fun for a change. _

With a determined exhale, Sig rolled over and pealed himself off the floor. He dressed, threw some clothes and other items into a duffle bag and made his bed. Quickly taking Edgar's pillow and blanket back into his room, Sig remade his little brother's bed, taking notice that the guitar stand was empty. _Looks like we're getting serenaded by the fire tonight_. Happy thoughts followed Sig to the bathroom where he shaved and brushed his teeth without being reminded. He went through the second floor of the house and checked that every window was shut and locked. Then he grabbed his bag off his bed and headed downstairs.

* * *

The drive to Elbow Lake was about two hours long and Norman felt every minute of it. After a quick stop for ice and breakfast, the boys started the long journey to the lake and Norman regretted not replacing the worn shocks in his truck. Every bump the truck took made his insides hurt but he refused to complain. _I'm not making my brothers feel guilty about taking me. For once, I'm keeping my mouth shut. _

Needless to say, Norman was never so grateful to see the family cabin come into view through the large, dust-covered windshield. As Sig parked the truck in the dirt driveway, Norman was the first one out of the vehicle. He pretended to be inspecting the motor boat's engine but, in truth, he just needed to walk around and try to stretch out the cramps in his stomach.

Edgar hopped out of the truck and closed his eyes, taking a long deep breath of fresh air filled with pine and the distinct smell of open water. _I love this place_.

As Sig shut off the truck, he exited slowly and stretched his legs after the long drive. Taking a good look around, he could see the cabin was in good repair and just patiently waiting for some life to revive the lonely looking building.

The family cabin was modest wooden structure which was comprised of one floor with four rooms: a living area that doubled as the boys' bedroom, a small kitchenette, a bathroom and mom and dad's bedroom. The driveway pulled up along the back of the house and around to the lake. The cabin front faced the lake and the wooden dock built by Grandpa Hansen many years ago. If one looked hard enough, a dilapidated tree house could be found in the old pine trees that surrounded both sides of the cabin.

A hundred yards from the home was a man-made lake, so large the view stretched out past the naked eye and around the bend to unchartered waters. The water was so crystal clear it made a mirror for the clouds to admire their own beauty. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft singing of birds and the fish slashing in the water.

There were no sounds of rushing cars, no smell of smog, no traffic lights and no thugs waiting around the corner threatening to bring harm to loved ones. For Edgar, it was a temporary taste of heaven, a reprieve of peace where no one could hurt him. The only thing that could make it any better was a bathroom.

As Sig was unloading the truck, he noticed his youngest brother bouncing around the front porch of the cabin. "You gotta go, buddy?" he asked as he fished the door keys out of his jeans pocket.

Edgar nodded enthusiastically and Sig was quick to unlock the door. Once Edgar was inside, he headed straight for the bathroom as Sig went back outside to get their things. He spotted Norman trying to get the cooler out of the back of the truck.

"Hey," Sig yelled, causing Norman to freeze, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Helping?" Norman said defensively.

"No," Sig shook his head, using the back of his hand to gently push his brother away from the truck, "You can help by not helping." He climbed onto the tailgate and slid the cooler out.

Looking at his brother's backside sticking out of the truck, Norman leaned in and asked, "So what the hell am I supposed to do? Just stand here and watch you guys unpack while I pick my ass?"

Sig pulled the cooler out, carrying it by the side handles, and turned to face his brother, "If picking your ass is what makes you happy, Norman, then by all means, pick away. But you're not lifting, carrying or doing anything else to help out."

"So I just get to hang around and do nothing?" Norman asked, not hiding his annoyance and feeling useless.

"And what's wrong with that? Please tell me you're not complaining." Sig hollered back as he carried the cooler into the cabin.

Norman followed him inside, "I'm not complaining. I'm just not use to being so…useless."

"You're not useless, Norman," Edgar called from the bathroom.

"No, you have many uses, tough guy," Sig added as he dropped off the cooler in the small kitchen, "Like comic relief or being a pain in my ass or adding excitement to our otherwise dull and boring lives."

"He fixes things, too," the youngest brother chimed in as he opened the bathroom door.

Norman pulled the sheet off the old sleeper sofa and tossed it over Edgar's head, making him look like a walking ghost. "I do fix things. Look, I just fixed that zit on your chin. Now nobody can see it." Taking a seat on the sofa, Norman leaned back and took off his boots.

Edgar stood perfectly still in the middle of the room, the sheet still over his head and reaching all the way down to his ankles. "I have a zit?" he asked incredulously.

Sig peeked around the corner and gave Norman a glare with meaning.

Norman only laid down on the sofa, putting his sock-clad feet on the arm rest, and laughed at the sight, or lack thereof, of his younger brother. "You didn't notice you got a zit? How does one miss that?"

The white sheet only shrugged. Sig came in the main room and relieved his youngest brother of his covering, tossing the sheet back at Norman's head. Norman deflected it easily and the sheet landed on the floor.

"It's normal, Edgar," Sig said reassuringly, "You just have to start washing your face more often."

Edgar still seemed shocked and strangely fascinated by this new adolescent development. He wandered back in the bathroom and began inspecting his face in the old, foggy mirror. Norman watched his younger brother's actions from the sofa and shook his head with a laugh.

"Don't tease him," Sig pointed towards Norman and mouthed silently.

Norman rolled his eyes. "Fine," he mouthed back.

"I'm going out back to flip on the power. You need anything," Sig asked his lounging brother.

"I'd love a beer," Norman smiled as he readjusted his feet on the sofa.

"You can have one…in, like, four years," Edgar teased from the bathroom door.

"That's what you get for teasing him about the zit," Sig muttered to Norman and added loudly for Edgar to hear, "Not that we'd ever drink before the legal age of 21 because we are setting a good example for our youngest brother."

"Too late," Edgar said as he came back in the room, "I know you guys drank when you came up here with your friends."

Norman and Sig looked at each other, wondering where Edgar got his accurate information. Both older brothers hung their heads and look ashamed for Edgar's sake. "It was only a couple times, Edgar," Sig said as he stood by his youngest brother's side, "Not that it makes a difference. It was still wrong (_and a lot of fun_). Mom and dad never knew, though."

"Mom knew," Edgar whispered softly, looking up into his oldest brother's blue eyes.

"How?" Norman asked as he sat up like he'd just been caught taking cookies out of the cookie jar.

Edgar only shrugged, "She always knew everything."

A moment of silence passed in the quiet cabin as the three boys contemplated how much their mother really knew about their little secrets and never let on, never hinted that she was onto their schemes. Even after her death, she continued to find ways that only added to their enduring respect for her intuition and discretion.

Sig was the first to break the silence. "Come on," he put a hand on Edgar's back, "Someone's gotta help me unload the truck." Sig emphasized the word 'someone' and widened his eyes in Norman's direction.

"Hey, don't say I didn't offer," Norman grumbled as he folded his hands over his chest, closed his eyes and sighed deeply. A smile of relaxation materialized on his face. _Finally, a comfy spot where my insides aren't getting bounced around like a tennis ball_.

* * *

By the time Sig and Edgar had unloaded the truck, fired up the electricity to the house and unpacked their bags, Norman had drifted off into a peaceful nap.

As Norman snored softly from the sofa, Sig ushered Edgar out the door and shut it quietly behind them. "Let him rest for a while," he instructed his youngest brother.

"It's not like him, Sig," Edgar noted, "He's never this tired. All we did was drive here and then you and me did all the work. He's not getting sick again, is he?"

"It's 'you and I' and no, he's fine. He's just still recovering," Sig said as started up the truck, "It takes a while for the body to heal itself. He just needs a lot of rest and this is the perfect place for it. If he behaves himself, that is."

Edgar climbed into the other side of the truck, "We're taking the boat down to the lake already?"

"Why wait?" Sig shut the truck door and turned sideways to look at his brother, "You ready to be back out on the water?" Edgar's seasickness on the simplest of nautical excursions was a well-known fact and often the cause of some mild brotherly teasing about being the son of a fisherman born with a weak stomach for open water.

"I'll survive," Edgar said a groan, "It goes away after a little while."

Sig put the truck in drive and slowly guided the truck down the dirt path around the house. "Well, just let me know if it gets to be too much out there. It's fairly calm and we'll take it easy."

"I can handle it," Edgar sounded nasally in his defense. _I'm not a baby, remember._

"Didn't say you couldn't," Sig said evenly, "I'm just asking you to keep me informed of how you're doing…(_about a lot of things, not just seasickness, but that's beside the point_)…so I know how far to go out."

"Alright, but I'm not gonna let it stop me. I'm catching the big one today," Edgar announced his intentions proudly.

Sig laughed, "Are you now, little brother?" as he shifted the truck around and started backing up slowly, letting the boat gently guide itself into the water. He watched what he was doing carefully in the rearview mirror, Edgar watching his oldest brother maneuver the truck and boat like he'd been doing it all his life. When Sig was finished getting the boat in deep enough waters, he hesitated to put the truck in park. He turned to Edgar, an evil grin on his face, "How upset do you think Norman would be if I just let the truck sink into the lake?"

"He'd kill you," Edgar stared back, never really sure if Sig was serious when he adopted the 'bigger, meaner' older brother smile, "And we'd lose our only ride home. The next sign of life is four miles down the road and it's a long walk to the payphone at the Texaco. And you guys wouldn't make it back in time and both lose your jobs and dad would…"

"Fine," Sig pretended to be disappointed as he slammed the truck in park, "We'll save the watery grave for the old jalopy for another day."

"Oh, Norman would kill you just for saying that," Edgar informed his oldest brother with a genuine smile as he removed his sneakers. He hopped out of the truck and slashed in the water, the ankles of his jeans getting sopping wet.

After getting the boat free of the truck, Sig pulled the truck a safe distance to shore while Edgar tied the boat to the dock. He opened up the back and took out the fishing poles, tackle boxes and other secret items known only to the Hansen family.

Edgar was standing in the boat when Sig walked down the dock. "Hey," Sig said loudly to get Edgar's attention, "Lifejacket."

"Awww, Sig…" Edgar started but his whining was quelled by a raised blond eyebrow.

"No complaints…lifejacket…now!" Sig ordered harshly, "If there's one thing I take very seriously, its safety, especially your safety. So if you're goin' fishing with me, you put that lifejacket on this minute," Sig pointed to the fluorescent orange jacket stored underneath the forward starboard seat, "And don't let me catch you without it on again!"

Edgar turned his back to his brother, hiding his face and feeling embarrassed by the stern scolding. He was startled by the sudden harshness of his brother's voice but managed a respectful, "Yes, sir," as he complied with the order.

Dropping the gear down into the boat, Sig swung over the dock and climbed in. Seeing his brother's slumped shoulders, he sighed and gingerly made his way over to the bow. Sig put a gentle hand on Edgar's back and leaned close to him. "I'm not yelling at you," he said softly, "I'm just trying to…"

"…I know," Edgar looked over his shoulder and up at his brother, "You're trying to keep me safe. I should have put it on first thing. I know better. God, dad would have screaming at me, too, if he were here."

Sig closed his eyes and pulled his brother's head into his shoulder, burying the face into his crisp plaid shirt. Edgar rubbed his nose against the fabric, catching a hint of Downy laundry softener, and almost panicked as he remembered the previous night's horrific nightmare. _This isn't a dream, this is the real thing and my big brother would never hurt me. He just yelled at me for not being safe so I know he cares. _

As Edgar relaxed, Sig placed a gentle hand on the back of his head. "I'm trying really hard, kid," he confessed in a voice heavy with emotion, "I'm trying not to just fly off the handle and start yelling." Sig leaned back so he could look Edgar in the face, "But I'm starting to understand why dad freaks out over stuff like a lifejacket or an unlicensed trip around the block. It's because he gets scared at the thought of something happening to one of us and, I'll tell you, it's an intense fear that can make your blood run cold. And I can see why he gets mad because I know now how frightening that feeling can be. So, as much as I try not to, there's probably gonna be times I lose my temper and holler at you."

Edgar tipped his forehead into his brother's chest, leaving Sig only the view of the back of his neck. "I'm sorry," was spoken quietly.

"Don't be," Sig said as he lifted his little brother's chin with his right hand, always forcing them to be on 'equal footing' at these moments, "You didn't mean to scare me. And I didn't mean to lash out at you. But at least you know why…which is?"

Sig drew out the 's' in 'is" like he was waiting for a reply he fully expected his brother to know by now.

"Because you care about me," Edgar smiled a little.

"And?" Sig tipped his head to the side.

Edgar smile grew wider, "Because you love me." He said it like a statement, no hint of a question in his tone.

"That would be the correct answer," Sig released his brother's chin and ruffled the shaggy head of hair with a smile, "Come on…the fish are waiting."

As it turns out, the fish had to wait close to twenty minutes because Sig struggled with getting the motor started. Silently cursing Norman for saying anything, therefore automatically being the one to jinx the trip, Sig was losing his patience. He had flipped the motor up and into the boat, the covering removed as he stared helplessly at a bunch of wires and metal parts.

The youngest Hansen rested his chin in his palms, watching with curiosity as his oldest brother struggled and he tried to understand Sig's bizarre thought process on how to fix the engine. _Staring at it isn't going to fix it, Sig. Neither is cursing at it in Norwegian because you think I don't know what those words translate too in English. I am quite fluent in both languages and I know what 'faen' and 'dritt' means._ When he felt Sig was frustrated enough to accept assistance, Edgar worked his way over to the engine. Wordlessly, he spotted the problem and, with a bent fishing hook, a piece of line and some oil, had the engine humming in a matter of minutes.

Sig was truly impressed. "What…are you secretly part the A-Team?"

"No," Edgar laughed at the reference to one of their favorite TV shows where four soldiers of fortune found ways to escape the bad guys and stand up for the weak, often times devising some elaborate plan that involved creative thinking. "It was simple to fix."

"Simple?" Sig asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Edgar shrugged his shoulders like 'duh.' _These things come naturally to me. Don't they to everybody? I fixed the problem and impressed my brother - I love it when a plan comes together._

The oldest brother studied Edgar like he was looking at him in a new light. Finally he said, "You have a gift, Edgar."

"A what?" Edgar asked as he settled back against the stern.

Sig placed the engine back in the water and the boys headed away from the dock. "A gift…Norman has it, too. You guys can fix anything."

Nothing could have pleased Edgar more than to hear those words. _Maybe I'm not such an idiot after all_. He was smiling ear to ear as the wind whipped his hair back and the water splashed up the sides of the boat.

Sadly, Edgar's smile was short lived. Once Sig had found his lucky spot, he dropped the anchor and began setting up the fishing poles. As the boat was gently rocked from the waves, Edgar began to feel the first effects of nausea. By the time the lines were dropped, he was hurling his breakfast into the lake. Sig kept him hydrated with bottled water, rubbed his back in between reeling in several large brown trout and softly suggested they go back in. Being the stubborn Norwegian he is, Edgar adamantly refused and reassured his brother he'd be fine. After some time had passed, the youngest brother felt well enough to fish, although he was looking forward to getting back on solid ground.

* * *

Norman awoke a few hours later, feeling better than he had in a long time. Stretching, he had to remind himself of his surroundings. Remembering where he was, he got off the sofa and went outside into the fresh air. The truck and boat were nowhere to be seen. _Just couldn't wait for me, could they? Figures they'd leave the invalid here all alone. Sig probably would give me a hard time about going anyway. My older brother is 'PsychoSig' when it comes to water safety and, God forbid the boat tips over,_ (Norman knocked against the side of the wooden cabin) _there's no way I'd have the strength to swim back to shore_.

Making use of quiet time, Norman went back in the cabin and checked the refrigerator. It was cold enough to store the food so he unloaded the contents of the cooler. He puttered around for a while, straightening up the old cabin and getting lonelier by the minute. When he couldn't take the silence any longer, Norman left the cabin and wandered down to the lake.

The seventeen-year-old strolled the length of the worn dock and sat down on the edge, taking off his boots and letting his bare feet dangle above the water. He took off his t-shirt and let the sun warm his muscular back and rippled chest. A turquoise dragonfly floated by and landed on Norman's knee. He watched it inspect his jeans, trying to find nectar and coming up disappointed. The dragonfly buzzed off, making a sound like to miniature helicopter.

As he leaned back slowly, letting his back rest against the warmed wood, Norman stared up into the clear blue sky and traced the outlines of the clouds with his fingers. A smile played on his lips as a long-forgotten memory came back to him.

*******Norman's Flashback*******

"Why can't I go?" a six-year-old Norman whined to his mother. He pouted in front of the slender, beautiful woman, dressed in a pink swimsuit with her long blond hair floating down her back. She was kneeing on a blanket by the lake as she set up items from a nearby picnic basket.

Two-year-old Edgar was playing by the lake's edge, his diaper sticking out the top of his Superman swim trunks. Mom kept a close eye on her baby as she went about her work but she managed to toss Norman a sympathetic smile. "Because your father said to stay here, honey," she whispered sweetly.

Norman walked off, not going far, and started kicking around some small rocks in the grass. He shoved his hands into his checkered shorts' pockets, clenching his fists and feeling angry and jealous. Sig had been taken out on the big boat with dad and Norman was left behind because he had irritated his father during the entire car ride to the cabin. Now the oldest brother was getting quality time with dad and Norman was left on shore with the 'baby' and mom. In his mind, it just wasn't fair. _I want to go on the big boat, too_.

Feeling bored and dejected, Norman looked around and tried to find some 'big boy' things to do. Seeing something that caught his eye, he called back to his mother. "Mommy," Norman asked, "Can I go play in the tree house?"

"No, stay close to me, Norman," Mom called without glancing back, her eye focused solely on Edgar as he chased a frog into the water.

The six-year-old, wearing his favorite 01 General Lee t-shirt, was starting to like this trip less and less. Looking over at the tree house, and then back to the mother, Norman wandered further towards the woods. When mom was momentarily distracted by Edgar's adventurous nature leading him out into deeper waters, Norman made his escape. He could hear his mother chasing Edgar around the sandy banks of the lake and Edgar distinctive giggles echoing across the water.

Norman approached the tree house and ran up to the tire swing, jumping belly first and swinging wildly. _Mommy will be busy for a while trying to get the baby out of the water. I have a few minutes before she notices I'm gone_. He swung back and forth, kicking the tree and going higher. When he got bored with the swing, he climbed a few branches and hung from his knees, viewing the world from a new perspective.

Like a prisoner being released from his cell, Norman exploded with pent-up energy. The long, boring car ride had been torture for a young boy who was forced to sit still and be quiet because his father didn't seem to appreciate his singing or sense of humor. Of course, his older brother kept trying to stick a wet finger in his ear and, when Norman had enough, he got in trouble for punching Sig in the arm, causing him to yell and startle the baby.

As the blood rushed to his brain, Norman hopped down from the tree branch and started climbing the old rope up to the tree house. It was an easy process for a strong healthy kid but the rope had been worn from age and the outdoor elements, causing it to weaken and fray. As Norman was close to the top, the rope gave out and he fell to the hard earth below.

Unhurt but startled and scared, Norman started crying loudly. Within minutes, his mother, carrying a squirming, wet Edgar, was kneeling by his side. She crouched down and stroked her middle child's tear-streaked face. "Norman," she said, her voice laced with concern, "Er du OK, babyen min?"

Norman looked at the worry on his mother's green eyes. Edgar was starting to sniffle and hiccup, a sure sign that he, too, was about to cry because his big brother was crying. Not wanting Edgar to get upset by his own tears, Norman nodded his head that he was fine and got up slowly. He leaned on his mother as he rose, then pulled away from her and brushed the dirt off his knees.

When he was finished dusting himself off, Norman hung his small head and waited for his mother to scold him for disobeying her and wandering off. To his surprised, she pulled him into a warm embrace with her free arm and kissed him softly on the forehead. She whispered, "I know it was hard for you to watch your bror go off with pappa. You want to have fun, too, and we will. Just be patient, Norman." As she stood up, she offered out her hand and Norman put his small hand in hers as she led the three of them back to the lake.

When they arrived, she settled both her boys down the soft cover and laid down with them to stare up at the blue sky. Mom put Edgar on her chest and Norman cuddled up on her left side. She talked about the clouds and showed them the different shapes the clouds could make, like a giraffe and a puppy dog. As she stroked Edgar's cheek, Norman looked over and watched his little brother being lulled to sleep. He reached over his mother's stomach and ran a finger down Edgar's small nose, making the little toddled giggle and causing his mom to laugh.

" 'Orman K?" the little boy asked, his green eyes glazing over with drowsiness.

"I'm OK," Norman reassured his little brother.

After Edgar drifted off to sleep, Norman and his mother continued making shapes out of the clouds and talking about all the things they were going to do on their vacation. Mom seemed to value Norman's joking nature as she chuckled at the wild creations he came up with for each passing cloud.

When Sig and dad came back with the boat, Norman had almost forgotten about his earlier loneliness and misadventure. Hearing the boat pull up to the dock, Norman sat up quickly and hugged his legs to his chest. _Now daddy's gonna be mad about me not listening while he was gone and I'll get it_. _I'm in soooo much trouble._

Mom gently placed a sleeping Edgar down on the blanket, stood up and gave her middle son a stroke on the top of his brown hair. Then, she walked down to the dock, grabbing Sig as he ran by her and kissing his blond head as he tried to wiggle away. She let him go with a laugh and the oldest brother joined Norman on the blanket.

Sig helped himself to a sandwich and took quick notice that Norman seemed out of sorts. "We caught a walleye," he announced proudly, thinking Norman would be impressed by the information and come out of his trance. Instead, Norman ignored his older brother and kept his eyes glued on his parents, waiting for his father's angry reaction to his disobedience.

Yet, mom seemed to be the one that was angry, wagging her finger at their father and giving him a stern glare. Her blond hair was flowing back and forth as she pointed in the direction of the tree house and then back at her husband in an accusatory manner. Sverre nodded several times, shrugged and then had the good sense to hang his own head in front of his fuming wife. Dad tied up the boat and headed down the dock. He did not stop for a sandwich and went directly to the tree house to inspect the damage. Only after fixing a new rope to the tree house did the man get to enjoy his lunch.

When dad did sit down, he immediately went to talking about the fish they caught and the conditions of the lake. Mom feigned interested as she stroked her baby's soft brown hair and ate her lunch like nothing was wrong.

It took a few minutes but young Norman realized that, although mom had obviously informed dad of the tree house incident, she elected to leave out certain details about how Norman came to fall in the first place. _She didn't tell him I wasn't listening_. The middle son occasionally glanced over at his mother, trying to catch her eye and find a way to show his appreciation. He had started off this trip with dad on the wrong foot and his disobedience to his mother while dad was gone would have sealed his fate on dry land for the remainder of the trip. Instead, Norman finally felt relaxed enough to eat a sandwich and ended up going out on the big boat that very afternoon.

*******End Flashback*******

Although he tried to tell himself it was from staring at the sun too long, Norman knew he'd be lying. The two fat tears that rolled down either side of his temples and hung off his earlobes came from someplace else. _Same place…different time_. _I miss her. I still don't understand why bad things happen to good people. Can someone explain that to me?_

Hearing the motor off in the distance, Norman sat up and brushed off the remaining tear streaks on his face with the back of his hand. Slapping on his usual smile, Norman stood up and waited for his brothers to come back.

Sig maneuvered the boat next to the dock like it was a natural-born talent. Edgar tossed the line to Norman and the middle brother made quick work of securing the boat to the wooden pier.

"You guys left without me," Norman complained, "Didn't even leave a note. I was starting to think you sailed to Alaska."

"That would be pretty much impossible considering it's a closed lake, bro," Sig pushed up the cooler onto the dock.

Edgar climbed the metal ladder and almost kissed dry land before adding, "We'd never leave you behind, Norman." As Edgar knelt down on one knee, he opened the cooler and proudly revealed his catch. "I got a palomino," he announced, holding up the large pink trout by its mouth. He handed it over to his older brother for closer inspection.

"Great job, kid, I always wanted to catch one of these. What kind of bait did you use?" Norman asked as he sized the fish in his hands.

Edgar only smiled, "I'll never tell."

Norman looked down at Sig who only shrugged and turned his back to hide a knowing smile. With a sigh, Norman returned the elusive fish back to the cooler and noted that his brothers had managed to catch quite a few large trout on their first outing. "I guess we're having trout for lunch," he declared as he shut the lid to the cooler.

"Fresh fish is better than hot dogs and hamburgers any day of the week," Edgar said as he leaned over and offered a hand to Sig as he exited the boat.

As Sig hopped up onto the dock, he agreed wholeheartedly with his youngest brother. "Now we get to skin the poor things."

"They gave their life for a good cause. You can't ask for more than that," Norman added as Sig carried the cooler back up to the house.

After enjoying fresh fish from the grill, the boys donned their swim trunks and swam in the afternoon sun. As he had promised, Norman took it easy, wading in the swallow waters and floating on his back. He watched his brothers playing in the lake, taking turns jumping into the water off an old rope tied to a nearby tree. Sig tossed his youngest brother into the lake and challenged him to races, Edgar desperately trying to win and inevitably losing each time. Sig was a strong swimmer and Edgar didn't stand a chance. It was refreshing for Norman to see Sig acting like a kid again and, although he couldn't join him, that was all the entertainment Norman needed.

When the sun began to set, the brothers sat on the edge of the dock, drying off, and watched the orange globe descend under the horizon. The light danced on the calm waters in front of them, stretching out and turning the blue lake the colors of pink and auburn. Everything seemed still and perfect and even the birds in the pine trees were quiet.

"Red sky at night…" Sig said softly.

"Sailor's delight," Edgar finished the old saying.

"Tomorrow's gonna be beautiful." Norman surmised.

"Today was beautiful," Edgar said shyly, staring down and swishing his bare feet in the water.

Sig looked over his head at Norman and the two of them smiled at each other. "You're right," Sig said as he put a hand on Edgar's neck, "Today was beautiful."

"Come on," Norman said as he nudged his younger brother, "Let's start a fire and cook hot dogs. That should make your day just perfect."

Edgar nudged his brother with his shoulder, smiling and feeling better than he had in a long time. He was here with his brothers, everyone was safe and his worries were miles away.

The boys trudged out into the woods, finding their makeshift fire pit with ease and setting up the supplies they would need. The fireplace was a stone pit surrounded by fallen logs laid out like a circle of low benches. Dad had constructed this place years ago and the family had spent many nights hanging out by the fire when the boys were little. In recent years, the older boys had made out with their girlfriends and got drunk with their friends while the fire shown a light in the dark woods.

Under Sig's watchful eye, Edgar got to light the fire with one of Sig's old cigarette lighters. The brothers roasted hot dogs over the fire and ate them right off the stick. Norman had his first taste of junk food since Saturday and, in his opinion, the hot dog was the best thing he'd ever tasted. They melted marshmallows, most of which fell into the fire and left a sweet smell in the air. Edgar brought out his guitar and played some of Norman's favorite country songs. When Norman tried to sing along, Edgar said he was tired of playing and put the guitar back in the house.

The woods was quiet except for a local owl who was making his presence known and the crackling of the wood as it popped and sent up amber sparks into the night sky. Every star in the heaven twinkled in the darkness above them, shining down through the trees like daggers of light.

Edgar was absolutely mesmerized by the fire's light and he stared at it like a beloved girlfriend. Absentmindedly, he chattered away about school and how much he hated it. He talked about kids in his class and one boy in particular who seemed strange and talked to himself like he was hearing things no one else could. He revealed the names of all the girls he liked and that he kissed Beth at the movies, describing in detail about how weird and cool it was. He rattled on about how he wants to be a fisherman like dad and an engineer like Norman and he wondered how the two things might mesh together someday. He talked about so many different things, Sig and Norman were hard pressed to keep up with the constant changing of topics. Somehow they managed because, silently, they both knew they were seeing their brother, the 'real' Edgar, for the first time in months.

Only when Edgar started to get quiet did Sig pick up on the fact that the kid was half asleep as he leaned his head against the back of the wooden log, his lanky legs stretched out in front of him on the ground.

"Edgar," Sig called softly.

"Hmmmm" was the sleep reply.

"Let's go back," Sig encouraged.

"No," Edgar fought off the drowsy feelings, "I want to stay here with you guys."

"We're going back, too," Norman said as he stood up and poured water onto the fire. The fire hissed as its life was extinguished and Sig flipped on his flashlight to show the way home.

Edgar moaned as the fire was put out, "I'm too tired. Can't we just stay here?"

"Too many mosquitos," Sig said as he approached his youngest brother, "And spiders."

"Time to go home," Norman announced as he started to head back to the cabin without waiting for his brothers.

"Come on," Sig said as he helped Edgar to his feet, "I'll carry you."

"I'm too big," Edgar protested, although he thought a ride sounded nice. He got up to his feet and staggered a little against his big brother.

"Piggy back ride…come on…get on my back," Sig offered, turning around and kneeling down. Edgar couldn't resist so he stood on the bench and flung his arms around his brother's neck. He tucked his legs up against Sig's hips and Sig reached around and grabbed him under his bent knees, holding out the flashlight so he could keep an eye on Norman ahead of them.

Edgar rested his cheek against the back of his brother's shoulder and closed his heavy eyelids. He had forgotten just how strong his oldest brother really was as he enjoyed the slow ride back to the house. _I love you. You tell me all the time now you love me and I still don't say it back like I should. Why is that because I do love you very much? So why don't I say it? I know you want me too…you told me that day in the kitchen when you broke down and cried so hard it scared me. That was the day before Elliot and his friends paid me a visit. Maybe now I'm afraid that if you ever find out I lied about everything, you'll think I lie when I tell you 'I love you' too. _

Sig found his way back, following Norman and the light from the flashlight in his hand. Norman opened the front door of the cabin and turned on the small light by the front door. He turned around and held the door open for his brothers. Edgar had fallen asleep on Sig's shoulder. "He's getting a little too big for that, don't you think?"

Sig shook his head and whispered quietly, "One day, he'll be bigger than the both of us, so as long as I can, I'll carry him and not complain." He looked around and wondered where to drop his brother off. The pull out sofa wasn't made yet and Edgar was getting heavy. "Any problems with him sleeping in the big bed?" he asked Norman.

"No," Norman answered with a shrug, "Why would I have a problem with it?" He opened up their parent's room and turned on the light. Edgar must have found time to make the bed up while Sig was unloading the car because there were fresh sheets and new pillow cases on the bed.

Sig gently deposited his little brother on the bed and started removing his shoes. "I just figured you wanted to sleep in here."

Norman untied Edgar's other shoe, "And you're right…I am sleeping in here."

"With him? Do you think that's a good idea? What if he kicks you in his sleep?" Sig asked as he removed Edgar's t-shirt. Edgar was like dead weight, sound asleep, and hadn't stirred once since coming into the cabin.

"Stop worrying about every little thing," Norman rolled his eyes. He tugged off Edgar's jeans and knelt down to find sleep pants in the duffle bags. "Where's the kid's stuff?"

"Leave it," Sig said as he tucked the covers around his youngest brother, "He's fine. He can skip brushing his teeth for one night. Hey," he asked, "Did you take your medicine today?"

Norman stood up straight, getting a little annoyed at the constant reminders of his illness, and started twisting the class ring on his finger. "Yes, mother…" slipped out in a sarcastic tone. The second it left his lips, Norman winced and closed his eyes. "Sorry," he apologized immediately.

Sig's temper flared hot like the fire they just left but he swallowed his anger back down. _I'm not her…I'm not trying to be her…well, maybe I am_. He looked over at Norman, "I'm just trying to take care of you…you know, make sure you're OK. Sorry if that bothers you but..." The oldest brother didn't know how to finish his thought without starting a lecture on the differences between being a best friend versus a temporary guardian. _If mom were here, she'd be the one hovering over you. I'd still care just as much if she were here but I'd keep my mouth shut and let her do all the consoling and comforting. Now I don't have a choice and I don't appreciate the reminder how much that annoys you. I'm not dad and I'm not mom but I'm more than just the big brother this summer. Shit, I don't know what I am but I'm not asking you if you took your medication out of obligation. I'm asking because I care. Sorry if you see it otherwise._

Sig felt defeated, tired and let his frustrations get the better of him. He turned away from Norman and said quietly, "No apologies needed, Norman. I'll stop bugging you. Take your medicine…don't take your medicine…push yourself and not follow doctor's order…do whatever you want. You're a big boy. You can take care of yourself." Sig gave Edgar a final glance, reassuring himself that the kid was still sound asleep, and then he left the room without another word, shutting the door softly behind him.

Norman sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. _Damn it. I hate it when he acts like he cares and then I hate it when he acts like he doesn't. What the hell DO I want? I know he's sacrificed for me and I just hurt his feelings – that I know I DO NOT want_. He put his hands over his face and rubbed the palms into his eyes. Debating if he should go talk to his brother, Norman decided they were both too tired and it would only end poorly if the two of them tried to talk now.

Pulling off his boots and pants, he found his own things and changed into an old pair of sweatpants. After turning off the light, he climbed into the bed and tossed an arm around Edgar, needing the comfort of another person for once instead of being the one giving it.

Sig sat on the sofa, looking at the closed bedroom door and secretly hoping Norman would come out and talk to him so he would have a chance to apologize. When the light shining under the door turned off, Sig realized the conversation he hoped for wasn't going to happen. _Fine, be mad at me. I can be mad right back_. The oldest brother didn't bother to pull out the bed and laid down right on the sofa. His mother's words about never going to bed angry haunted him till he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next day, Edgar woke up to find Sig gone and Norman sitting on a beach chair, soaking up the sun.

"Where's Sig?" he asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Don't know," Norman looked up, shielding the sun from his eyes, "He was gone when I got up. Truck's gone."

"You want breakfast?" Edgar asked.

"What'cha making?"

"Cereal."

"Sounds good to me."

The truck pulled up a few minutes later and Sig exited the vehicle, a Styrofoam cup in one hand and a box of donuts in the other.

Norman tilted his head, "You went eight miles for cup of coffee?'

"Yep" was the only reply Norman got as Sig whisked by him.

As the door slammed behind him, Norman closed his eyes. _OK, Sig and I are apparently not OK because I could feel the tension coming off of him just as he walked by me. It's gonna be long day and an even longer drive home. _

The weather turned out beautiful, as predicted, and the boys enjoyed what time they had left of their vacation. Sig and Edgar went back out on the lake, although their trip was less successful than yesterday. They caught a few fish to take home with them and then hooked the boat back up to the truck. Norman didn't even bother to ask if he could go fishing. He knew the answer would only lead to an argument between him and his older brother so he spent the day packing up and cleaning the cabin.

As the day progressed, Edgar sensed the tension between his brothers. They were barely speaking to each other so it wasn't hard to figure out something was wrong. Bantering back and forth was commonplace for them but silence between them was a clear indication of a problem. The youngest Hansen had learned long ago that the best solution was to stay out of it and maintain his normal relationship with each of them. _Trying to intervene usually only makes things worse_. _They always find a way to work out their problems so I'm not gonna worry about it_.

When it was time to leave, Norman waited in the truck as Sig and Edgar made one final walk around the house and lake, making sure everything was secure and nothing had been forgotten.

"You have a good time?" Sig asked.

"Yeah," Edgar said sadly, "I don't want to go back." _And I know the hell I'm going back too_.

As they walked slowly around the lake, Sig put his hand on his brother's back and talked about coming back in a few weeks. He could almost sense the 'real' Edgar shutting down and disappearing by the way the kid had grown quiet in the last few hours. "I know this was kinda a surprise coming here and you didn't get any time to work on your essay…"

"Ahh…" Edgar sighed, putting a hand on his forehead. _Shoot, I totally forgot about that damn thing._

"Don't worry…I'll give you more time if you need it."

"I'll get it done tomorrow," Edgar quickly reassured his brother, willing to stay up all night if it meant he would avoid being grounded.

"Take the weekend if you need it. The due date just got changed to Sunday."

"Am I grounded?" Edgar stopped walking suddenly, a look of fear crossing his eyes.

The look caused Sig's heart to clench a little in his chest, a reminder that he was going back to being more than just a big brother. _I forgot for a wonderful few days that I'm the disciplinarian this summer. God, I hate this_. "No, Edgar…I didn't mean it like that," he said as he stroked his brother's hair, "I'm just you giving more time. By the time we get home, it'll be late and I'm sure you'd like to go with Norman to work tomorrow. I just don't want you to rush. This essay means a lot to me and I'm giving you more time because you didn't know we were going on vacation when I punished you. So this extension does NOT come with strings attached. You're not grounded if it doesn't get done tomorrow. Sunday, on the other hand, is another matter altogether."

"OK," Edgar whispered as they headed to the truck, "You would make a nice teacher if the whole crab boat captain thing doesn't work out."

"Thanks," Sig said as they got in the truck, "I'll remember that."

"Have everything?" Norman asked as he looked out the opposite window.

"Looks like it," Edgar said as he made a point to look from side to side at both of his older brothers. _I have everything that's important to me. That's all that matters._

The boys gave one final look at the cabin and the lake beyond it. Sig put the truck in drive and they began the long drive home in the afternoon sun.

* * *

When they arrived home, it was already dark. Norman made a beeline for the telephone, calling Amanda and arranging for her to drive him to work tomorrow. He checked the messages and wrote down the appointment his doctor had scheduled for tomorrow evening to remove his stitches. _Amanda can take me there right after work_. Then he took his bag and went upstairs to his room.

As Sig and Edgar were unloading the truck, the boat already placed back in storage and the cab removed, the phone rang. Sig answered it and was a little surprised to hear Nick's voice on the other line. Nick invited Sig to meet him at the club after work tomorrow. He also extended an invitation for Edgar to hang out with Matt tomorrow evening.

Sig asked Nick to hold on and he covered the receiver of the phone. "Hey, you want to go over to Matt's tomorrow?"

Edgar panicked, realizing this would complicate his plans for sneaking off to the Shack. He stumbled for an answer. "Ummm…I don't know…"

"Come on," Sig tapped his brother's chest lightly, "He's still your friend. Go have fun."

"But the essay…" Edgar tried another approach.

"I already told you…" Sig stared at his brother and then made the decision for him. Getting back on the phone, Sig said, "Sure. Edgar would love to come over. Norman can drop him off after work. I'll meet you at the club at seven and pick Edgar on the way home." The older brothers finalized their plans and hung up. Edgar felt like he was going to throw up.

"I don't want to go to work with Norman tomorrow," Edgar now had to alter his plans, adding another batch of lies to the surmounting pile, "I'd like to stay home and work on my essay. I can ride my bike over to Matt's house later."

Sig seemed initially suspicious and Edgar held his breath. "Please don't worry about the essay," he said as he wrapped up the fish in freezer paper.

"I just want to get it done, you know," Edgar tried to sound worried enough about it to want to stay home. Sounding worried was not a problem for him right at the moment because that was exactly how he felt.

"OK, I guess," Sig had his back turned to the garage door when Edgar slumped gratefully against the door frame, "Norman can drive you over after he gets home from work. You can't take your bike because I'll pick you up later and there's no way to get it home."

"Yes, sir," Edgar muttered, his relief fleeting. _Now I have to disobey those instructions on top of the lying and I have to drag my friend into this to cover for me._ He wandered upstairs to unpack his things, thinking about the irony of just how fast he was thrown back into the living nightmare of his life. _The lake was the dream…this is the real thing._

By the time Sig came upstairs for bed, both his brothers' bedroom doors were shut with the lights out. Earlier, he had heard them getting showers and brushing their teeth, Edgar mumbling something to Norman about staying home tomorrow, and then it had gotten quiet on the second floor.

Sig went to his room, readying to get a hot shower and spend a peaceful night…the entire night…in his own bed. As he ripped off his shirt over his head, he looked up and saw his class ring sitting on top of his dresser. Underneath the ring was a folded piece of lined notebook paper.

For an unexplainable reason, Sig's heart sank a little as he placed the ring back on his finger. _No way is Norman all better yet…he just doesn't want to wear it anymore. _Hesitating to read what was in the note, Sig got a shower first and then got dressed in his sleep pants and an old shirt. Before crawling into bed, he picked up the note and carried it into bed with him.

Norman's atrocious handwriting was unmistakable.

**Bro,**

**Thanks for letting me wear this. I know what it means to you. I don't want to wear it to work because I'd be worried about something happening to it. **

**I hate it when you're mad at me.**

"I'm not mad," Sig whispered out loud as he read the last line. _I thought you were mad at me_.

**Sorry for what I said. I know you aren't mom but you're the closest thing I have to her and you're doing a great job taking care of everything. I don't tell you enough how much I appreciate that but I really do. So does Edgar. **

**Thanks for the trip, although I missed the beer**.

"I miss the cigarettes," Sig laughed to himself.

**See ya tomorrow,**

**Norm**

Sig got up and knelt on the floor, blindly looking for something under his bed. When he found what he was looking for, he pulled out a shoebox and opened the lid. It was filled with private things that meant the most to him. He placed the letter in the box, slid it back under the bed and turned off the light.

~tbc

**A/N: The next series of chapters are about to get really heavy so I tried to keep this one light. Perhaps it turned out boring but I did my best. Thanks for all the support out there. **


	37. Red Sky In The Morning

**Very short chapter but I had to get this out of the way. Also, this is a good chance for me to comment that I CANNOT believe my crazy little story has so much support out there. You guys are wonderful (you know who you are:)!**

Early the next morning, Sig arose and got ready for work. Expecting to be forced to work late, punishment of sorts for his two days of vacation, he tossed a change of after-work clothes and shoes into a small bag. Secretly, he was excited about going to the club with Nick and just being a young man for a while. Making sure he had his wallet in his back pocket, he left his room.

As he got to the top of the steps, Edgar's bedroom door opened slowly and his youngest brother appeared in the doorway. Edgar's hair was a tangled mess and the impression from his pillow still outlined his face.

Sig paused at the top of the steps, seeming a little confused, and dropped his bag. "You're up early," he said quietly, "Its only 6 o'clock." Norman's snores could still be heard from beyond his bedroom door so Sig kept his voice down.

Edgar shrugged, his eyes desperately focused on his oldest brother like they were pleading with him to stay.

Something about the look on Edgar's sleepy face made Sig nervous. He walked around the railing and down the short hallway, stopping a few inches from his brother's doorway. "You have a nightmare or something?" he asked softly.

Edgar looked up at his brother and shook his head. He put a hand up to his face, rubbing at his cheek and trying to find the courage to say what he really wanted to. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out except a small noise Sig couldn't identify.

"What's wrong, Edgar?" Sig asked, stepping closer and now getting very worried.

The worried expression on his brother's face caused Edgar to falter. "Nothing," he said quickly, the word coming out heavy and breathless, "I just wanted to say goodbye."

Sig tipped his head forward, his eyes glued on his brother's face. "No," he said as he moved his brother's hand from rubbing at his cheek, "Something's up. What is it? Did you want to tell me something?"

_Yeah, a hell of a lot…like I'm already painfully sorry I'm going to disobey you today, likely have to lie my ass off and get myself in more trouble with you. Eventually, you're gonna give up on me and just leave. You could…nothing's making you stay here. You're old enough. Norman could take of care me and you could just say 'fuck it – the kid's not worth all this trouble' and go to Alaska to start the life you really want. _With those thoughts running through his mind, Edgar didn't even realize his eyes were filling up with tears.

Sig only stared at him for a minute, watching the water pool in those green eyes and he could clearly see his brother was in a tremendous amount of pain. Grasping Edgar gently by his shoulders, Sig leaned in and touched his brother's forehead with his own. "Listen to me. I don't care what it is. Stop thinking and just say it. Don't think…talk to me," he whispered.

Edgar threw his arms around his brother's neck, shoving his left cheek against Sig's shoulder, "I love you." _ I couldn't mean that more. I'm scared, Sig. I'm scared you'll stop loving me._

Sig quickly wrapped his strong arms around Edgar's ribs. "I love you, too," he whispered as he stroked the back of his brother's hair. "Now tell me what's wrong."_ Because I know something is, damn it. I'm here. Don't be scared. I'll always love you. I'll always protect you._

"Nothing," Edgar continued to cling to his brother, "I just wanted to tell you that." He wiped his tears off with his own shoulder.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't want you to leave."

"I'm only going to work. I'll see you tonight at Matt's house, remember?" Sig didn't know if he should laugh or cry right along with Edgar. He was no fool, his brother was crying for the same reason he cried himself to sleep the other night, whatever that mysterious reason might be. Still, he hugged him tightly, stroked his hair and the back of his neck and provided the comfort that Edgar seemed to so desperately need.

Edgar tried to pull himself together, pushing away the fear of the Shack and the thoughts of disappointing his big brother again. He hugged Sig so hard, it was as if he was trying to sap some of his strength for the upcoming night ahead. As he released the embrace, he couldn't help but notice the hand stroking the back of his hair had a certain feel that felt different but entirely right.

As Edgar pulled away, he took the hand from behind his head and held it up to his face. "You have your ring back," he said softly, staring the giant golden circle with the dark blue stone.

"Yeah," Sig smiled as he looked at his own hand, "Norman left it in my room last night."

"Is he all better now?" Edgar asked hopefully.

Sig shook his head, "No, he said he didn't want to wear it to work because he was afraid something would happen to it. But, if you ask me, he was just embarrassed to wear it in case one of his buddies stops by the store." He finished his thought with a shrug, "Can say I blame him…I guess it was kind of a silly thing between the three of us."

"No, it isn't," Edgar protested, "It was one of the nicest things you ever did for him…or me."

"Well, I don't think Norman's gonna think I'm too nice when he finds out I'm taking the truck to work today…just in case he gets any ideas about driving," Sig grinned, "The tough guy is just gonna have to be content with having his girlfriend drive him around in her little Honda all day."

"Amanda's coming to the house?"

"Yes, just to take Norman to work. Didn't you hear them talking on the phone last night?" Sig waited and Edgar shook his head, "I guess she's taking him to work and then picking him up to get his stitches out. Then she'll bring him home. I'm sure her and Norman won't mind dropping you off at Matt's house after they get back."

"You're not coming home in between work and going out?" Edgar asked, feeling like dirt because he was only asking so that he could plan his escape accordingly. _Sig coming home in between work and the club would complicate matters_.

"No, I'll have to work late for sure today. I'll get changed before I leave and meet Nick there…unless you need me to come back?" Sig asked in a concerned voice.

Edgar shook his head, trying to look causal but still struggling with his deceitfulness. "That's OK. Norman can bring me over. Does he know he's taking me?"

"Shit," Sig said, "I forgot to ask him last night."

"I'll ask him when he gets up," Edgar volunteered. "Sorry about whatever. I just miss you when you're gone. You better go before you're late."

Sig got the feeling he was being pushed out the door. _First you want me to stay, now you want me to leave…what is it? Are you still embarrassed to tell me you love me?_ "Hey," he said softly, "Don't be sorry about 'whatever.' I miss you, too. Maybe if we don't get home too late, we can play poker. I think I owe you about a tub of popcorn by now."

Edgar smiled and the grin reached all the way to his eyes. It faded quickly, though, as he added, "You just be safe at work, OK."

"I will," Sig reassured him, "You gonna be OK here all by yourself? You don't have to stay home, you know. No restrictions, remember?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Edgar punched his brother lightly in the shoulder, "Go."

"See ya. Have fun at Matt's" Sig said as he turned to leave.

_I wish I could_. "But not too much fun, right?" Edgar added.

Sig picked up his bag and gave his brother a stern glare over the railing as he descended the steps. "I'm not gonna comment on that."

Edgar went back in his room and closed the door. He felt terrible about asking Sig questions that had an ulterior motive. _I'm gonna feel terrible all day so just deal with it. I'm doing the right thing. _

The terrible feelings only increased when Edgar heard Norman's alarm going off twenty minutes later. Hearing Norman getting ready for work, Edgar steeled himself for the next lie he was about to tell. _There's no turning back afterwards._

As he heard Norman's bedroom door open, Edgar got off his bed and came out of his room.

"Have a good day," the youngest Hansen tried to sound cheery.

"Ugh," was the mumbled response, "I do NOT feel like going to work. Half the crap in the inventory is probably fuc…messed up and I'll spend the day trying to find everything."

"At least you don't have to lie around in bed all day," Edgar tried to get his older brother to smile.

Norman ran a hand over his short cropped hair, "And why did I complain about that again?" He did offer his younger brother a grin. "You gonna be OK here? You can still come with me."

"Thanks but I'm gonna work on my essay for a while…then I'm going to Matt's house," Edgar added quietly. _Here it comes_.

"How you gettin' there? Nick coming to pick you up?"

"Ah, no," Edgar tried to keep his hand away from his face, "I'm riding my bike over."

Norman cocked his head, "Sig say that was OK?"

"Yeah," Edgar's stomach took a hard turn, a knot beginning to form that would last the entire day and night, "He's gonna bring me home later and we'll get the bike tomorrow." _ God, it hurts to lie to you._

Norman furrowed his eyebrows together and Edgar stopped breathing. A car horn beeped from the driveway and Norman turned to look at the clock in his bedroom. "That's Amanda. I gotta go," he said quickly, giving Edgar one final glance, "Just be careful on that bike. She's got a lot more horsepower then she came with so take it easy."

"I know…I will," Edgar sighed inwardly. He paused as Norman started running down the steps. Calling after him, he added "I love you."

Norman stopped halfway down the steps, freezing in place. He looked up at his brother who was leaning over the railing. "I love you, too, Edgar." Then he continued on his way, feeling guilty for thinking something was up with his brother just because Edgar told him he loved him. _That's a terrible thought to think that people only say that when something's wrong. Maybe he's just lonely after spending all that time together at the lake. At least that's what I'm choosing to believe._

Only when Edgar heard the back door slam and the Honda drive off did he break down to his bedroom floor and cry his eyes out.

~tbc


	38. Know When To Hold 'Em

**As I pull the trigger on a storyline I've been setting up for twenty plus chapters, I will use the same words Edgar thought when he and Sig were waiting in the dentist office and discussing the essay. **Half the reason I can't write this is because I'm worried you'll be disappointed in me****

**Warnings: See all previous disclaimers.**

* * *

Edgar spent the day trying not to think about Elliot, his cronies and racing at the Shack that night. He did every chore he could think of, purposefully making himself do tasks he hated as a silent way to atone for the sins he had yet to commit. But the house was so lonely and quiet and the bad thoughts plagued him wherever he went, like a private dark cloud hanging over his head. There was no one to talk to, like a wise-cracking brother, who could make him laugh and help him take his mind off his worries. He tried watching TV and playing his guitar but the distractions only worked for a short while and the intrusive thoughts he was trying to escape from always forced their way back in.

Only when there was nothing left to try, Edgar made his way back to his room. He pulled his red covered notebook out of his desk, picked up a pen and sat down on his bed. _At least I can make the effort and try to write this essay. I told Sig I was staying home to work on this so I'll just give it my best shot and it will be one less lie I told. _Folding his knees, he leaned back against the headboard and placed the notebook on his lap. He stared at the blank page for a while, biting the pen cap till it was flat with teeth marks and collecting his thoughts.

Several failed attempts later, Edgar was left staring at a page filled with partially completed sentences and several scribbled words that had been crossed out. He turned to a new page, the lines crisp with straight blue ink and he remembered what Sig had said ~ **_write about what it means to have brothers_.**

_But all I can think about it is losing them_. Before he could stop himself, Edgar put the pen to paper and wrote an essay he never intended for anyone to see. _Maybe if I just get it out of me, I can manage tonight with a clear head and the bad thoughts will go away. I'm gonna rip it up anyway. _

**This ain't the essay you want but I need to talk to you so bad right now and I can't so this is all I got. You said to write my thougths about what it means to have brothers. Well, it means everything to me. You and Norm mean the world to me and I'd do anything to protect yous too. When I was little, you actualy use to scare me. That's the truth. You were so much bigger than me (still are) and sometimes you were real mean. I never knew where I stood with you, if you loved me or just wanted me to go away. I guess I annoyed you a lot but I only wanted u to pay attention to me. **

**Now that I'm older, I ain't afrid of you no more because I know you love me and wood never let nothing bad happen to me. But something bad has happened and I'm afrid of something else. Befour last week, the something bad was mom dying and I'm still real scared of losing someone else in our family cause I don't think I could take it. I think my heart still hurts too much from losing mom and it would brake if I lost you or Norm or dad. But THE something bad now is just what I'm afrid of the most. **

**I can't tell you this but last friday, some of the guys from the shack came to are house. That was the day I was grounded for smoking. No body was home and they cornered me when I tried to run away. I tried real hard to fight back. really I did. but I'm just not strong like you and Norm. They were mean and they scared me something aweful. Eliot told me I had to race again because he needs the money for some big poker thing at the shack. When I told him to go to hell, he threatened to hurt you and Norm. He didn't say it right out like that but he said something about your car and the hardware store and that was enuff for me to get it. He said if I told anyone or called the cops, bad things would happen and I believe him. You don't know what those guys are like. I do and they'll kill you and I can't let that happen.**

**So that's really where I was last friday night. I lied about going to Beth's house and I lied about getting the cigaretes for Nick. I got them for me. And I smoked and went to the shack and raced and lied to your face about it. And I'm gonna do it again 2night and every weekend for the rest of the summer because I'll die before I let anything bad happen to my brothers.**

**I'm really sorry I lied to you about soooo many things. I know if you ever found out, you wood hate me cause I broke my promise to you to never go back their. I've been sick about it ever since, so sick my stomach hurts all the time, like it's full of knots that won't ever go away. That's what's bothering me the most. Not that I'm afrid of something bad happening to me but that yu'll never forgive me. I know I'm doing the right thing but I hate all of this so much. It's worth it, thou, if it means I'm keeping you and Norm safe. You both our worth all of it. That's how much you mean to me. I just wish I could tell you this for real.**

Edgar stopped writing and found himself feeling a little bit better, like there was someone else in the world who knew his troubles and he wasn't alone. It was like a confession in a private diary and now the lined paper shared all his secrets with him. Before ripping out the notebook paper, he decided to re-read his false essay, finding resolve in the words and faith that he was making the correct decisions for his family.

With a sigh, he reached for the top of the page to detach it from the metal spirals and almost jumped off the bed when the doorbell rang. Scrambling to get to the front door, he closed the notebook and tossed it on the floor. In his haste, he pushed the book under his bed and failed to notice that the motion caused a certain hospital bracelet, which had been dropped behind the bed, to peek out and reveal itself beyond base of the headboard.

Running down the stairs, Edgar peeked out the curtains of the front door and prayed it was not Elliot and his gang making another unexpected call. Instead, he found a short man in brown shorts, with UPS written on his shirt, standing on the steps and holding a small box.

Edgar unlocked and opened the door. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes," the man checked the label on the package, "I have a delivery for Sverre Hansen."

"That's my dad. He ain't here but I'll take it for him," Edgar said as he pushed the screen door open.

The UPS man handed over the box and Edgar signed the receipt for the package. The man wished him a good day and left, driving off in his brown box truck.

Locking the door behind him, Edgar stood in the living room and stared at the small box. It was addressed to his father from a company named "Jostens" in California. _Must be some kind of new fishing company trying to get him to try some new invention on the boat, like a new hook or something, cause I never heard of this place before_. With a curious shrug, Edgar took the box up to his parent's room.

Their father's mail was always left on the desk in their parent's bedroom, all except items, like bills, that could not wait. Since there was little collected so far in the past few weeks, Edgar placed the box on top of small pile of cards and junk mail and went to leave the room. He had hardly entered his parent's room since mom died because the place reminded him too much of her.

As he was leaving, something in the bedroom closet caught his eye. The closet door had been left open and his mother's things, collected in boxes on the floor, had been sorted and rearranged as if they were waiting to be packed up and given away. Even though they were difficult to look at, Edgar had an overwhelming desire to see these things one last time before they were gone forever. A few minutes later, he found himself sitting on the floor, looking at his mother's jewelry, makeup and other personal belongings.

Hours later, Edgar had cried his way through inspecting each piece of jewelry and remembering exactly when she had worn it and with what clothes. He accidently sprayed her perfume into the air and got some on the sleeve of his t-shirt but he didn't care. He left the shirt on, feeling like she was close to him because he could smell her. He looked with new interest in her choice of lipstick color and other makeup selections, forever wondering why she selected pinks and blues and knowing he'd never get the chance to ask her.

It was a painful process but somehow it brought him comfort because he had finally found something to help him forget about all his troubles and worries of the night ahead. Only when the grandfather clock chimed four times did he sadly remember why he was worried in the first place.

* * *

Sig had spent the morning moving boxes from the docks into the warehouses. Sometimes he moved them by hand, other times by forklift. After several longs hours, he broke for lunch.

Selecting a Coke and sandwich from the vending machine, he sat down in the small break room and took a few minutes to himself. Other than the ride to work, it was the first quiet moments of his day and he couldn't help but think about both his brothers. _I hope Norman is doing OK and not pushing himself on his first day back to work. Stubborn ass that he is, he's probably lifting shit he knows he not suppose to. I'm not gonna worry about it. Serves him right if he hurts himself. I don't mean that. I don't want to see him hurt. _

_I don't want to see Edgar hurting either. What the hell was up with this morning? He looked like he wanted to tell me something…more than just 'I love you.'_

Lost in his thoughts, Sig didn't initially notice his friend Mike coming into the break room and sitting down.

"You look like you got a lot on your mind," Mike said as he tore into his sandwich.

Sig looked up and gave Mike a forced smile, "Yeah, a lot that's getting me nowhere worrying about it. How was your vacation? We missed you earlier this week."

"I bet you did," Mike laughed, "It was good. The kids had fun. Who the fuck knew Disney Land was so damn expensive? God, they nail you for everything."

"Wouldn't know," Sig shrugged, "Never been there."

The guys ate in silence for a few moments. Finally, Mike causally mentioned, "Heard your little brother was ripping it up at the Shack Friday night. A friend of a friend told me he won all the races."

A long minute passed as Sig stared at Mike like he just spoke a foreign language. Squeezing his eyebrows together, Sig swallowed his sandwich bite before he choked. "You mean two Friday nights ago. Edgar hasn't been down there in over two weeks."

Mike cocked his head to the side and look up like he was in deep thought. "Umm, maybe, I guess. My buddy's a heavy drinker. He drinks almost every night at the bar down there so who the hell knows. He couldn't tell time if he had a watch tied to his eyelids."

"It was two Friday nights ago," Sig said with conviction, "Edgar's done with all that shit now." _I know in my heart he is. He promised me. We've been through so much together in the last few weeks, making up for lost time, and I know he'd never go back on that promise. This guy just has his dates mixed up. _

"Good cause that ain't no place for a kid. There are lots of rumors floating around about the owners coming in from Vegas and having a big poker tournament this Thursday, illegally, of course. Some of the guys coming in are 'wise guys,' if you know what I mean?" Mike finished his gossip with a chug of his 7-UP.

Sig didn't want to hear any more about the Shack. The name alone brought back too many bad memories. So he politely excused himself, muttering something about getting back to work and the boss being up his ass about having two days off. The guys commiserated about working this weekend and Sig left the work room, dropping off his trash in the waste basket.

As he hopped back on his forklift, Sig sat and twisted the class ring on his finger. _I'm not gonna worry about shit today. My brothers are fine, both of them. Edgar probably sitting at home writing that damn essay and wishing he'd gone with Norman. Maybe not because then he'd be yelling at the tough guy all day to take it easy. No, I'm gonna get through this long-ass day and go have fun for a change. I'm gonna dance my ass off and maybe find a pretty girl to dance her ass off with me. I'm gonna have fun till they kick me out at ll o'clock because that's when it's only 21 and over. Then I'll see my brothers and find out they're both just fine and I was worried for nothing_. Putting his thoughts back to the work at hand, Sig began concentrating on his job and tried to forget about everything else.

* * *

Around five o'clock, Edgar pulled his bike into Matt's driveway. He had left the house knowing full well he disobeyed his big brother already by leaving on his bike but he had no other choice. Praying for a stray rainstorm was pointless as there was not a cloud in the sky and the day was warm and sunny.

Matt was shooting hoops in his driveway when Edgar parked his bike by the curb. Taking off his helmet and riding jacket, Edgar hung them on the handlebars and walked over to Matt with a deep sigh. _Now I have to lie to my friend and try and convince him to cover for me. God, let me pull this off._

"Hey," Edgar called as he approached.

"Wanna play?" Matt said as he passed the ball to Edgar.

"Sure," Edgar responded, feeling like he had a little time.

As the boys played one on one, Matt asked, "What'cha want to do tonight? My mom's working late again so I'm stuck at home."

Edgar bounced the ball, making a nice slide move to the left and scored a basket, "Nick not home yet?" The backboard of the net made a resounding bong.

"No," Matt stole the ball back as it fell to the earth, "He's still at work. He said he's going out right afterwards so who knows when he'll be back. Sometimes he stays at the club till 2 in the morning."

"Oh, must be a fun place," Edgar covered his friend from behind, "Sig's meeting him there."

"Then they'll be back early," Matt bounced the ball away from Edgar, "The club is only 21 and under till 11 o'clock. When Nick takes his girl there, they always gotta leave early because she's only 20."

_I can make it back here before 11 o'clock_, Edgar told himself. _I might get away with some of this after all_. _Now I just have to convince my friend to lie for me…which I feel guilt about already. This all hinges on Matt being my buddy._

When they got tired of playing, the boys sat down on the front step to cool off. The neighborhood traffic was starting to pick up as a few cars sped down the street with people returned back home from work.

"So what'cha want to do?" Matt asked again, "I got an Atari. Nick bought it for me to keep me out of trouble this summer. Hasn't worked, though," he admitted bashfully.

"Umm, no," Edgar's hand drifted to his cheek, "That sounds good and all but I gotta go a while."

"Why?" Matt asked, sounding a little angry, "Nick said you were coming to hang out with me tonight. Where you goin'?"

"Ah…I just got to go somewhere," Edgar looked down at his shoes, "I..um…gotta do something."

"What?'

"I just gotta go and I..I can't tell you…where," Edgar tried to remember the lie he had rehearsed in his head before coming over, "I'm gonna see a girl and I need you to cover for me when Sig gets here."

Matt stared hard at the top of Edgar's head for a few moments, then he actually started laughing. "You're funny, Edgar. You ain't going to see a girl. Where you really going?"

Edgar's head shot up, feeling insulted and becoming defensive, "I am too going to see a girl," he said loudly, "What the hell do you know about it?"

"What's her name?" Matt pressed his friend, his eyebrows raised in obvious disbelief.

Edgar fumbled, "Beth."

"Ya, right…Beth's on vacation with her family. Don't you remember I play football with her brother? Alex couldn't go to pre-training camp this summer because their family went away for the month. They just left yesterday," Matt laughed, "Nice try, Ed."

_SHIT! Damn it_. Edgar scrambled for another alternative. "It's a girl you don't know."

Matt snorted through his nose, "I know every girl in the neighborhood and at school. You're full of shit. Why won't you tell me where you're REALLY going?" he asked, starting to get very suspicious of his friend's odd behavior. Edgar always told him everything, even when they didn't see much of each other outside of school. It was very unusual for them to keep secrets from one another.

"I'm going to hang out with a girl. That's it." _That's all I got left. Please just shut up and stop asking questions_. Edgar's gut was turning in his belly, the guilt starting to cause him physical discomfort, and he didn't know how much more of this unexpected interrogation he could stand.

Matt squinted his eyes, glaring at his friend of almost ten years. "That's bullshit. I know when you're lying. And I know Sig would be perfectly OK with you going to see a girl and you won't have to hide it. Sig's a cool guy like that. What the fuck is going on with you, Ed?"

"Listen," Edgar felt his pulse racing, the conversation not going nearly as he had planned, "I just got to go and I need you to cover for me. I'll be back in a few hours and we can hang out then. I just need you to tell Sig I was here the whole time."

Matt leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, the basketball resting between his feet. "No fucking way I'm covering for you if you won't at least tell me the truth about where you're going. I ain't taking the risk of getting myself in more of a mess with Nick without at least knowing why."

Although he didn't want too, Edgar tried his go-to tactic of emotional blackmail. _Always worked when I wanted my brothers to do something for me._ "Why not? I tried to cover for you when you stole that pill."

"Yeah…and how did that turn out?" Matt added a slap to Edgar's back to punctuate his implied message.

_Damn, I don't want to think about that. Edgar brushed off the warning and felt like giving up._ "Whatever, Matt. Will you just do it for me? I thought we were friends." _Please…I need you to just by my friend right now. Cover for me like we always did when we were little. Like my brothers always did when I was in trouble._

"So did I but friends tell each other everything," Matt stressed the word 'everything' and paused for effect, "but you won't tell me where you're going."

"I'm…" Edgar stood up, rubbing furiously at his face and practically pleading with his friend, "I just have to leave. I'll be back." He started pacing back and forth, unaware just how much he looked like his oldest brother with the nervous movement. Occasionally, he glanced at Matt out of the corner of his eye and silently begged his friend to let him go without a fight.

Matt could clearly see how desperate his friend was getting. _Something's wrong. He never acts like this_. "Edgar," he said softly, "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

The youngest Hansen drew in a sharp, deep breath at the kindness in Matt's voice. They had been buddies for a long time and it was very hard for Edgar to withhold information and lie to his best friend. He turned his back to Matt, feeling retched and wishing he could just run away from everything. _So like me to run like a coward. _

Matt stood up, the basketball rolling slowly down the driveway, and he approached his nervous friend. Physical affection between thirteen year old boys was rare, typically restricted to jumping on each other's backs and trying to trip one another, but Matt put a hand on Edgar's shoulder. He could feel that his friend was trembling. _Jesus, he's really scared_. Squeezing Edgar's shoulder, Matt turned him around so they were facing each other. "Are you going to the Shack again?" _That's the evil place you went to when we stopped hanging out for a while. You told me at the movies last week you were done with those guys, your 'so-called friends,' cause they turned out not to be friends at all. I remember this conversation because you told me I was your true friend. I didn't say it at the time but you telling me that made me feel really good. Why go back now? It's so bad down there. All the bad kids at school, like Jake Harris, talk about that place_.

Edgar didn't possess the refinement of a seasoned liar's techniques for deception and he was unable to hide the answer that was clearly written all over his face. His eyes widened in shock that Matt guessed the right location of his night's upcoming adventure. As quickly as he could, Edgar pulled away and looked down the street to avoid his friend's gaze.

"Oh my God, you are!" Matt was skilled enough to know when someone was dodging an answer. He had done enough of dodging answers himself over the years. "Jesus Christ, Edgar, why? I thought you were done with that."

Edgar turned to his friend, pleading, "I just gotta go there. I…forgot somethin' there and Sig would kill me if he knew I left it." _God, that even sounds like bullshit to me. _"I'll be right back. Please…" he begged, putting his hands out in front of him, "…just cover for me for a little while. I swear to God, Matt, I would never ask you to do this if I wasn't important." _And it's important…like life and death._

"What did you possibly leave there that could be worth going to get?"

_My courage_. "Something that belonged to my mother," the knot in Edgar's stomach twisted so violently, he winced. _This is the lie I'll never forgive myself for telling. Never. _

Matt back off and the lie worked perfectly. Edgar's best friend understood completely that anything belonging to his mother would be sacred and worth the risk. "OK," Matt said slowly, "You got till 9 o'clock and then I'm sending a rescue party after you."

Edgar's shoulders slumped with relief. _Finally_. As he started to speak, Matt put his hand up to stop him.

"I got your back with Sig, although I don't like it, and I'm never doing this again," Matt glared hard at his friend, "I owe your brother big time and this is a lousy way of repaying him."

"Huh?" Edgar muttered.

"Don't worry about it," Matt turned away to hide his embarrassment. Evidently, Sig never shared Nick's 'offer' with Edgar and that made Matt feel even worse about telling a lie to the guy. _Fuck, this better be worth it, Edgar, because me and Nick have been really good since he gave me the belt for stealing that pill. Even though he was mad, we talked for hours about all kinds of things and then we both cried after the licking was over. He told me he loved me and how much all that scared him. He never says shit like that and I never felt so close to him before. Since then, we have been spending more time together and I don't want to screw that up. _

Edgar promised to be back as quickly as he could and thanked his friend. A simple 'thanks' didn't feel adequate enough and he desperately wished he could tell Matt the truth. But Matt knew too much already and Edgar regretted bring his friend into this terrible mess unintentionally. _It's for the best…except the lie about mom. How could I do that? I used my mom's death to manipulate my friend into believing me. God, I hope this ends soon because I don't know if I can live with the person I'm becoming_.

Matt watched his friend ride off and went back to shooting hoops by himself. He wasn't big on going to church or saying his prayers but he stopped and sent up a silent message to the clear blue sky. _Let him be OK_.

* * *

Edgar arrived at the Shack before the races started for the night. Parking his bike in front of the bar, he tried to hide in the crowd hanging out in the warehouse. The music was already blasting from the speakers and people were getting high and dancing like idiots.

Unfortunately, Adam spotted him, approached him slowly from behind, and tapped him on the shoulder. The large man hooked his finger at Edgar, beckoning him to follow.

Dutifully, Edgar followed the man into the adjoining door to the bar and through a back door that led to a dimly lit, dingy office. The office was bare except for a desk, ratty sofa and a large safe that sat in the corner of the room. Cigarette smoke hung in the room like fog around a cool lake, making it difficult to see clearly. Off the left of the office was a closed door that led to a section of the buildings Edgar had yet to see. He knew there were rooms above the bar from the tidbits he overheard from some of the local 'ladies' that made a 'living' hanging out in the illegal establishment.

The office was currently occupied by several inhabitants. Elliot was sitting behind the desk, counting large piles of cash laid out in front of him, and smoking a cigarette. His long greasy hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and he was wearing a brown leather jacket that look too expensive for him to afford. Edgar assumed it was stolen. Adam's brother, Joe, was lying on the sofa, already half intoxicated and had an evil look in his ice blue eye as Edgar approached the desk. Adam, the taller of the two, lit a cigarette and glared at his younger brother, causing Joe to immediately stand up and pulled himself together.

Several of Elliot's friends were leaning against the wall, all of them Edgar recognized from previous encounters except for one man whom he had never seen before. The man seemed totally out of place, dressed in a dark suit and standing perfectly erect behind the desk. For Edgar, the well-dressed man looked like someone from a movie he had watched on TV once about three brothers and a sister whose father was the boss of some kind of wealthy 'family.' The oldest brother had been shot up at a toll booth as he was trying to protect his sister from her abusive husband. Mom had come home and quickly turned the TV off, saying the movie wasn't for little kids and Edgar never got to see how the movie ended. The youngest Hansen could not understand why someone like 'those guys' would be at a crappy off-the-beaten-track kind of place as the Shack.

"Little Man," Elliot sneered from behind the desk, a wad of twenties on his hand, "So glad you could join us. Too bad it rained Saturday and we had to miss the pleasure of your company."

"We found pleasure elsewhere," Joe snickered but a kick from his older brother caused him to bow his head shamefully. The presence of the well-dressed stranger seemed to bring an unusual formality to their otherwise low-life behavior.

Edgar only shrugged, unable to look at Elliot for more than a few seconds at a time. He focused his attention to the green banker's lamp on the desk and wanted to get out of the room as fast as possible. The stacks of money and the stranger made him more nervous than ever.

Elliot saw how nervous the kid seemed in the presence of all the money and laughed wickedly, "Got a big poker game this Thursday. Mr. Moltisanti here…" Elliot gestured to the man behind him, "…is making sure there's enough cash in this place for a game night worthy of our impending guests. He even brought some cash along to be…cleaned…while the guests arrive."

Edgar wasn't sure why money had to be cleaned at all but he'd left enough dollar bills in his jeans pockets to know they came out of the dryer crisp and wrinkle free. He did notice that Mr. Moltisanti never flinched or even seemed to blink, only just stood there as a silent observer.

"I need you to be on your game tonight, little man," Elliot placed the rest of the money on the desk, "I need some cash for myself to get into the action. It's high stakes shit going on here and the owner doesn't just let anybody in. I'm sure your bike is in good shape. God knows you got the best bike out there. Damn thing is a glory of a machine. You ever want to get rid of it, you let me know and I'll take it off your hands. So race good tonight and tomorrow and maybe we'll let you off the hook next weekend."

"I'll try," Edgar whispered. _Can you let me off the hook for the rest of my life?_

"You'll do more than try," Elliot leaned over the money and whispered back, a hidden threat hung in his voice.

Suddenly, two naked women in their earlier twenties came bursting into the room from the closed door. They were laughing and screaming as an equally naked man chased them around the room, causing a huge distraction from the current conversation. Edgar was horrified and turned away, unable to look at the disgusting sight in front of him. The well-dressed man remained emotionless but Elliot and his crew thought the situation was hysterical. The guys chased the laughing girls around the room till one of the them knocked into the desk, causing some of the money to spill on the floor. Elliot cursed violently, slapping the girl who caused the money to be disturbed.

Edgar felt this was as good a time as any to make his escape so he bolted out the door and back through the bar as Adam and Joe ushered the unwelcomed party back into the upstairs rooms. The bar was still empty and Edgar made his way around the small tables and chairs and back out into the fading sunlight. Breathing fresh air, he sighed and focused on trying to get through the night and back to the people he loved.

* * *

Norman unlocked the back door and allowed Amanda entry into the quiet house. The trip to the doctor's office was surprising quick. Norman's family doctor removed his stitches and informed him that everything seemed to be healing nicely. The middle brother was both revealed to hear he could drive again and dismayed that he was still restricted from lifting, exercising or working out for another week.

After a bite to eat, Amanda brought Norman home in her Honda with Norman grumbling the whole time about foreign cars and the need to buy American.

"You want to buy me a car…" she asked when she had had enough, "….you decided what to get. Until then, I buy what I like with MY money."

"You know," Norman said in a lofty voice, "When we're married, I'm getting you a Ford Sierra and show you what a real car company can do."

"IF, not when, we're married, I'm just gonna drive the truck and stick you with the Honda," she told him as she turned off the engine.

"I'll be a good husband. No need to take the truck away," he whined playfully.

"Then behave yourself and you get to keep the truck," she smiled as she exited the Civic.

Norman sat in the car a minute, watching the way his girlfriend filled out the seat of her blue Jordache Jeans. He especially liked the way the little horse's head on the back pocket move from side to side as she walked up the porch steps. The motion made him feel a stir in places he hadn't experienced since before his surgery. _Since that damn bathroom incident. _

By the time the two of them got in the house, Norman was at the starting gate and waiting for the bell. He slammed the back door behind them and took his girlfriend into his arms, kissing her passionately and running his hands all over the little horse's head.

Without stopping the kiss, Norman and Amanda made their way to the sofa. As she lay down, Amanda pulled her lips away. "You can't," she said breathlessly, "You could…"

"No, baby," he soothed her as he removed his t-shirt, "I can…and more."

She slipped her shirt off and Norman assisted with the rest of both their clothing. He lay down next to her and buried his face in her space between her breasts, his right hands grazing over her nipple as he kissed her from her throat to her naval. She moaned and ran her hand over his head, down his bare back to the crest of his taut buttocks.

He teased her, caressed her and stroked the soft place between her thighs, taking his sweet time and enjoying every minute of preparing her for loving. When he felt she was ready, he whispered how much he loved her.

Rolling on top of him, Amanda took Norman by surprise. "I love you, too." She snaked her way down to the sofa and took him in her mouth. Norman almost lost his breath as her lips and tongue showed him exactly how much she loved him. He closed his eyes and tried to remain stoic but her wet mouth caused such fierce desire in him, he began to whimper.

"Go ahead, baby," she hummed quietly, "This is all that's happening tonight so enjoy it."

"No…" Norman whined, "I want to be inside you."

"When you're all better," Amanda whispered back, "You're following the doctor's orders. No complaining."

Letting out a low growl of frustration coupled with pleasure, Norman gave in and wondered if Sig, Edgar and Amanda conspired against him on a regular basis. He wanted to argue but the tongue darting across his delicate flesh took all the fight out of him. He put his hand behind his head and grasped the threads of the throw pillow as he allowed himself to enjoy the delicious torture.

* * *

At that moment, Sig was feeling a different kind of torture. His back ached from lifting and moving boxes all day and he just wanted to be done but each time he tried to clock out, the dock boss pointed towards another delivery. The work was tedious but it brought in a much needed paycheck. It was well past seven o'clock when he finally left work for the day.

Stopping at McDonalds, Sig got a Chicken Sandwich, fries and a large ice tea. He changed for the club in the men's room, shoving his work clothes in the small bag and donning a blue collared polo, a clean pair of jeans and his brown shoes. He combed his hair in the mirror and wished he had time and the equipment to shave his face as it was already dotted with blond stubble. Tossing on some Polo cologne and reapplying his deodorant, he hoped he was presentable enough for the club. _I'm just going to have fun, I ain't looking for a hot date. Why am I even bothering?_

The drive to the club was about thirty minutes. The Rambling Rose was a nice place in the middle of the suburbs of Seattle and many young people came here to drink, dance, hook up and, in general, just have a good time. The cover charge was free till eleven and Sig was resigned to wearing the orange bracelet handed to him by the bouncer as he entered. Orange bracelets meant the wearer was under 21. Only those 21 and over got the coveted purple bracelets that allowed them access to the bar and all the pretty liquid behind it.

Seeing Nick waiting at a small table, Sig waved and walked over. The club was already crowded from people ready to forget another week of work. INXS was blaring from the speakers and the colored lights illuminated the polished wood of the dance floor.

"Drink?" Nick screamed over the music.

Sig held up his orange bracelet and looked ashamed, "Got milk?"

Nick roared with laughter and, with his purple bracelet, ordered himself a shot of Jack and a soda for his friend. The guys tried to talk about their day but it was a fight against Billy Idol and his Rebel Yell.

Not long after, three young ladies made their way over and introduced themselves. They were nice girls who were clearly looking for nothing but a good time. Nick was cordial but aloof, sending an unmistakable message that he was taken.

One tall blond with hazel eyes and long legs took a liking to the handsome blond Norwegian and Sig found himself a dance partner for the night. Forgetting all his concerns, Sig danced with his new-found partner for hours and had fun for the first time in months.

* * *

As the sun set, Edgar won the first race with ease. When he was preparing for his second race, Joe came up behind him and grabbed him by his green leather riding jacket.

"Elliot wants you," was the gruff response when Edgar looked surprised at the sudden rough treatment.

Edgar left his bike by the track, his helmet on the handlebars, and was practically pushed in the direction of the bar and adjoining warehouse. Led back into the office, Joe closed the door behind them and pushed Edgar forward.

Adam seemed to come out of nowhere, grabbing Edgar by the arms and holding him back against his chest.

"Search him," Elliot ordered from the corner of the room.

Adam ripped off the riding jacket from Edgar's body and tossed it to his brother, Joe. He began searching Edgar's jeans pockets with little care as he squeezed the teenager's arm with his left hand. Joe searched the pockets of the jacket and came up with a pack of gum and some lint.

Edgar struggled at the invasion of his person, "Hey, what gives?"

No one answered him. Elliot was dangerously silent, a menacing look on his face as he eyed the young boy from across the room.

Adam only twisted Edgar's arm to keep him still as the thug checked his pockets and the waistband of his jeans. Joe tossed the jacket on the floor and, as Adam picked Edgar up from behind, he took off Edgar's shoes and socks, fruitlessly looking for something.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of panic, Edgar froze like a deer in headlights, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He scanned the office, looking for a means of escape. The well-dressed man, Mr. M-something Edgar remembered, and the money on the desk were nowhere to be seen. _He must have left with the money_. Two more of Elliot's guys blocked the exit and he was trapped. There were no windows and the door that lead upstairs was shut. _No way out._

"He's got nothing," Joe announced flatly. Adam continued holding Edgar from behind, effectively immobilizing him.

Elliot approached Edgar with a slow gait, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Standing in front of the helpless kid, he took a drag and blew smoke in Edgar's face. "Where is it?" he asked with a deadly calm.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Edgar said quickly, desperation building in his voice.

"My money," Elliot ran his fingernail over the young face, leaving a slight red line trailing from Edgar's eye to his ear, "Four hundred dollars is missing from my stash. We've looked everywhere. Ain't nobody got it. You were the only other person in here earlier and you hightailed out when we were distracted. Perfect time to swipe some of my cash off the desk."

"I didn't take your money," Edgar cried, his eyes full of fear.

Elliot stared him down, "Come on, now, little man. Don't compound the problem by lying."

Despite his intense fear, Edgar didn't miss the irony of that statement. _But this is the one thing I ain't lying about_. He shook his head, his soft brown hair wiping around, "I didn't…"

"Just tell me where you hid it and we'll go easy on ya. Did ya hide it in the woods or somewhere in the warehouse?" Elliot was starting to lose some of his cool, anger seething from his pores. _It ain't that much money but no one fucking steals from ME. I need all the money I can get and this kid better start talking before he ends up on the back of a milk carton_.

Edgar wanted to cry but he refused to look weak in front of this scum. Finding his voice, he said evenly, "Maybe you miscounted. I didn't take anything, I swear. I don't steal." He looked Elliot straight in the face, his eyes never wavering.

"THEN WHERE THE FUCK IS IT?" Elliot asked as he slapped the kid across the face, causing Edgar's other cheek to smash into Adam's shoulder. _I know how much was there and I know money is missing._

"I don't know," Edgar pleaded as his brain tried to make sense of what was happening.

Elliot blew out a deep sigh of frustration and, looking up at Adam, he nodded his head and moved out of the way. Before Edgar had a chance to recover from the slap, he was dragged over to the desk and forced to bend over the old mahogany. Joe came around the front of the desk and grabbed Edgar's hands, pulling his arms straight out in front of him. Adam kicked the back of the boy's legs and held him down by his shoulders. Another pair of hands held his bare feet down to the ground.

Edgar was madly struggling in vain. The thugs were much more powerful than him. The side of his face was pressed to the wood and he looked over at Elliot who was standing by the desk. "I DID'T DO NOTHING WRONG," he screamed, his voice breaking, "Please…."

"You're a thief," Elliot ignored the pleas, "No one steals from me…NO ONE." He reached down and began unbuckling his belt, "Let me show you what my Old Man used to do when we got caught stealing from him. Course the guy didn't have much to steal except his liquor and cigarettes. He was a waste of a human being but he sure knew how to make an impression." Elliot freed his belt from its loops, doubling over the black leather in his hand. "Hold out his hands," he commanded.

"Noooo," Edgar cried, realizing what was about to happen and helpless to stop it. Joe dragged Edgar's hands flat across the desk, holding them down by his fingers trapped firmly in his fists.

"I'm a reasonable guy," Elliot explained causally, leaning over so his nose was almost touching Edgar's free ear, "I'll give you one last chance to tell me where the money is. All I want is my money back. Just tell me, kid."

"Don't call me that," Edgar hissed through his teeth.

"You're a fucking idiot," Elliot said as he straightened back to a standing position.

Edgar tried to free himself from his captors and was rewarded with a kick to the back of his left knee. He whimpered and whispered desperately, "I didn't take anything. Why won't you believe me?" _Oh God, I want my brothers._

Elliot's response was to bring the belt down hard across the palms of Edgar's hands. Sharp, stinging pain caused Edgar to screw is eyes shut but he bit his lip, refusing to cry out and give Elliot the satisfaction. When the belt fell again over the same tender flesh, Edgar winced but remained silent.

Holding the belt for the next blow, Elliot shook his head in disbelief. _This kid's got to be the most stubborn, stupid person I've ever met_. "Just tell me where the money is?" he asked, "It's the last time I'm asking so think it over. Be smart and just fess up."

The pain radiating from his hands was excruciating and Edgar would have said anything to make this all stop but he knew whatever lie he told would make things worse. _If I say I took it and hid it in the woods, they'll keep me here while they look and find out I lied to them. Then they'll never let me go_.

When the boy remained silent, Joe lifted his head and glanced over at Elliot, "Maybe the kid didn't take it." _Well, I know he didn't cause I did. I didn't think you'd notice such a small amount so fast. I should have known better. But I ain't saying nothing now cause you'll beat me to an inch of my life. Then my brother will finish the job. Poor kid but…better him than me_.

"He's the only one who had the chance," Adam glared at his brother, "The money went back in the safe after he left. We searched those girls and their John and came up empty. It wasn't one of us, so it had to be this little punk," Adam emphasized his point with a kick to Edgar's shin, causing the kid's eyes to roll back in his head from the brutal blow.

"It's gonna be a long night, little man. Wouldn't you rather talk than scream?" Elliot positioned the belt high above the air.

Edgar closed his eyes, anticipating the next blow.

"Scream it is," Elliot answered for him, the snapping of the belt resonating in the small room.

Edgar buried his face in his armpit, attempting to somehow escape from the world. As the belt fell repeatedly, Edgar was unaware that he was screaming and begging for mercy. All he tried to focus on was the faint smell coming off his t-shirt sleeve. The scent of the familiar perfume triggered feelings of comfort, love and happy memories, like his mother was still with him, holding him and telling him everything was going to be just fine.

Elliot lost count of how many times he struck the hands on the table. He only relented when he realized the kid had passed out for the third time from the pain.

* * *

Sig was having a blast when the lights of the club flickered and the bouncers began checking for orange-banded patrons. Although he would have stayed longer if he could, Sig had to admit he was tired and ready to go home anyway.

Finding Nick on the dance floor, he nodded his head to the door and smiled. "Time for the babies to go to bed," he yelled over the music, "Thanks for inviting me."

"Hey," Nick stumbled into Sig, "I'm a little drunk."

"Having a good time, are ya?" Sig steadied his friend.

"It's been a while," Nick slurred, "I'm buzzed."

"Are you staying here?" Sig screamed over the music, "Wait a while before you drive home."

"No, I want to go home," Nick screamed back, "I want to see my brother. I miss him."

"You are drunk," Sig laughed.

"Can you drive me home?" Nick asked, "My buddy can bring me back tomorrow to get my car."

"I don't think it's a good idea for Matt to see you like this," Sig suggested, "Stay a little longer. Dance it off."

"It's just a buzz. It will wear off by the time we get home," Nick openly whined, "I'm tired and I really do want to see Matty. I haven't seen him all day."

Sig tilted his head to the side, "You really do miss him, don't you?"

Nick nodded, the head movement feeling strange like someone had him on slow-motion mode. "I haven't been the best big brother to him, Sig. I'm trying to make things better."

Sig sympathized completely with the confession. "OK, we'll stop off at McDonalds for a cup of coffee. You gotta sober up a little before I take you home."

"OK," Nick felt like a little kid but agreed. _Sig's right. I don't want Matty seeing me like this._

With a quick goodbye to the three ladies, the gentlemen left. Sig's dance partner slipped him her phone number on the back of a cocktail napkin, placing the paper in his back jeans pocket and pinching the flesh underneath the denim. He kissed her on the lips but did not commit to contacting her after tonight. He wasn't about to lead her on, letting her think he was interested in a long-term commitment. _I'm still leaving for Alaska at the end of the summer and I don't want the added pain of leaving another person. My brothers will be hard enough to leave, especially Edgar_. Escorting Nick from the club, Sig dug the truck keys out of his pocket and unlocked the passenger door.

Nick went to light a cigarette as he got in the truck but Sig stopped him. "No way, Nick. Norman would literally kill me if I let someone smoke in his precious truck. You have to smoke that outside. I'll wait in the truck."

"You want one," Nick opened his pack, revealing the end of several golden cigarette filters.

_Do I ever!_ "No," Sig stayed firm, "I'm trying to quit. Got one week under my belt and I'm not going back now."

Sig waited in the truck for Nick to finish his smoke, trying not to look and wishing he'd never made that promise. _It's the only promise I made this summer that I regret_. When Nick was finished, he slid into the passenger seat and Sig rolled down the window to let in some fresh air. _Great, Norman's gonna think I was the one drinking and smoking in his truck. Can't wait for that argument._

The guys stopped off for some coffee and Sig drove around a little, letting Nick sober up from his buzz. They finally had a chance to talk about work and their families. Nick talked about graduating from college and marrying his girlfriend. The discussion was painful for Sig but he put on a smile and tried not to think about Sara and his own static life.

* * *

When they finally arrived at Nick's house, Sig was eager to see his own little brother and take him home. He had enough fun for one night dampened a little by hurtful reminders of lost loves and a good smoke.

As they entered the house, Matt was in the living room alone and watching TV. He had started pacing the house around 9:30 pm, looking at the clock and mentally cursing Edgar for the mess he dragged him into. As the hour approached 11:00 pm, Matt became less angry and more concerned about his friend's welfare. _Edgar would have been back by now. Something bad has happened, I know it. He'd never leave me hanging like this and he'd never risk getting caught. _

At 11:30 pm, the front door opened, causing Matt to jump up from the sofa and wait by the door. He was sweating, his heart racing inside his chest. All bets were off and he was only focused on the safety of his best friend.

"Hey, little brother," Nick said gladly as he entered the house.

"Matt," Sig greeted him as he came in behind Nick.

Matt looked at the two big guys in front of him and burst out crying.

Nick was instantly concerned, "Matty," he pulled his brother close to him, "What's wrong? Is it mom?"

"Edgar didn't come back," Matt sniffled, looking up at Sig from the safety of his big brother's chest, "He said he'd be back by 9."

"Didn't come back from where?" Sig asked, his own voice sounding strange to him, "He was supposed to hang out here with you. Didn't Norman drop him off earlier? I don't understand." A premonition swept over Sig's entire body, from his blond head to his little toe and a chill went through him.

Matt shook his head slowly, tears falling down his face, "No…" he whispered, "…he came over on his bike."

Sig tried to ignore how much hearing that information hurt. _I specifically told him no bike_. "So he was here," the oldest Hansen said to himself.

"Yeah," Matt replied, "But he left."

"Did he tell you where he was going?" Nick pulled his younger brother away from him so he could look into his eyes.

"Yes," Matt nodded, "He didn't want to tell me but…"

"But what, Matthew?" Nick shook his little brother gently, "You better start spilling it RIGHT NOW!"

Nick's demand was met with a sad look, "Please, Nicky," Matt cried harder, "Don't be mad again. Please…I didn't want to lie to you. Please just don't stop…" _I want things to be good between us like they have been this past week. I didn't want to screw it up like this but I know my friend's in some kind of trouble and I can't cover for him anymore. _

Sig put a hand on Nick's back, moving him to the side. He knelt down in front of Matt and took him by the hand. "Nobody's mad at you. Don't worry. Just tell me the truth, Matt. What the hell is going on here?"

Matt looked to Sig and then up at his brother. Nick saw how frightened his little brother seemed and he managed a smile, keeping his temper in check for once, "It's OK, Matty. Just tell the truth like we talked about this week and everything will be OK," he said softly.

A deep sigh came from Matt's chest and Sig felt the young man relax. Looking back at Sig, Matt spoke plainly, "Edgar did come over on his bike. We played basketball for a while and then he said he had to leave. He told me he was going to a girl's house…"

Sig's shoulders dropped with a little relief. _This I can handle_.

"…But he was lying to me. I could tell. When I confronted him on it, he told me he was going to the Shack," Matt confessed.

_This I cannot handle_, Sig thought as his heart almost stopped. "No," he whispered, "That can't be." Early words between co-workers floated across his mind and a mistaken lapse in time seemed like a less plausible excuse. _This just can't be happening again._

"It is," Matt said in an unwavering voice, "He begged me not to say anything…" he mentioned with a sideways glance to Nick, a silent apology on his lips, "…and I told him I wasn't covering for him. But he said he had to go because he left something important there." Matt decided to leave Edgar's mother out of the story, the only information he held back because he could see how much Sig was hurt by Edgar's actions. _It doesn't matter why he went…you just gotta make sure he's OK now. I'm sure Edgar will explain everything…when he gets the chance…if he gets the chance._

For Sig, the 'left something important down there' just sounded like bullshit an inexperienced liar would come up with and he had no doubt that inexperienced liar was his little brother. _None of this is making any sense_.

"Ed seemed really nervous, like I've never seen him before, not even before a big exam at school. He was so desperate and scared, although he tried to hide it from me. When I told him I'd help him, he left on his bike and said he'd been back by 9 but he never came back. I'm sorry I was gonna lie to you, especially after everything…" Matt looked over at Nick, "But I can't lie now. Something's wrong. Edgar would have called me if he decided to go home."

"So the two of you could get your stories straight, right?" Nick asked sarcastically, unable to hide annoyance in his voice. _I thought we were on good terms, Matt. How could you think about lying?_

"Yes, sir," Matt bowed his head, knowing his brother picked up on the intended deception, "But he hasn't called or come back. I'm worried."

_So am I. It's not like Edgar to put his friend in this kind of position unless he felt like his back was to the wall_. "Edgar asked you to cover for him?" Sig let go of Matt's hands and started twisting his class ring absentmindedly.

"Yes, sir," Matt explained, "He knew you'd be really mad if you found out."

_Smart kid, my youngest brother, because I am really, really ma_d_…and suddenly sick to my stomach_.

"But something's wrong, Sig," Matt said as he saw the anger cross Sig's face, "He never came back…"

Sig was filled with anger, fear and disbelief. Standing up, he turned to Nick. "Can I use your phone?" he asked.

"Sure," Nick pointed to the phone in the hallway between the living room and the kitchen.

Sig took several long strides to the phone, dialing home and taking a deep breath. _Please, God, let him be there_. On the third ring, someone on the other line picked up.

"Yallow," Norman answered.

"Is Edgar there?" Sig asked immediately.

"No," Norman sat up on the sofa, gently moving his arm from around Amanda's back. The Godfather was on TV, although carefully edited for content and language. "I thought he was with you. Sig, what the hell is wrong?" _Why do you sound so funny?_

_Damn, I'm breaking a promise…but I have to lie because I don't want Norman getting upset over possibly nothing. And I need him to stay home...and out of trouble. Last time he went down there, he almost got run over trying to be a hero. No more close calls this time. My best friend has had enough this summer already._ "Nothing, Norm. I just think our little brother has a girlfriend we don't know about. Just stay there and call Nick's house if he comes home. You got the number?"

"Wait a minute," Norman got up and went into the kitchen. He picked up the other receiver and grabbed the pen and notepad by the phone, "Give it to me."

Sig provided the number and tried to hang up but Norman was persistent. "Are you sure everything's OK? Edgar was acting a little weird this morning when I left for work?" he asked as put the pen down on the counter.

"How so?" Sig asked in spite of already knowing. _Like needing to tell me he loved me._

"I don't know," Norman tried to explain, "He just seemed…weird…and nervous. Kinda like he's been acting lately so I guess it ain't as weird as I thought. He just seemed…off."

"I'm sure our little Romeo was already planning his night and having second thoughts about getting caught," Sig was shocked at how well he could lie when he needed too. _So you wanted to stay home and work on your essay, did ya? And you were disappointed about not being able to ride your bike over here. How long have you been deceiving me, Edgar? And about what? _Sig was torn between wanting to strangle his youngest brother and hug him till next Sunday.

"I guess so," Norman explained, "He just acted like he was never gonna see me again. Does that make sense?" _I hope you know what I'm talking about cause this is hard to explain._

_Perfect sense. That's exactly how he was with me this morning, too._ Inside, his mind was piecing together a week of events that, on the surface, seemed unrelated. At that moment, the stars began to align and Sig knew in his heart Edgar went to the Shack tonight. _Last Friday, he lied to me about seeing a girl. He was petrified about being at the Shack and me finding out. That's what he was so afraid. He smoked because he was nervous about racing, not about some girl. He got out of Saturday night's races because of the big rainstorm. Then, Norman got sick and I blamed Edgar's anxiety on almost losing our brother. But even after he got better, Edgar became increasing anxious as today approached. Crying himself to sleep, seeming distance and on edge must have been the guilt gnawing at him. He wanted to tell me something this morning but just couldn't. I just don't know why he would do this. I thought he knew he could trust me._ Thoughts of Edgar's lack of trust in him during Matt's recent pill theft haunted Sig and he felt like punching the wall and crying like a girl all at once.

"Sig?" Norman asked on the other line after a long minute of silence.

"It's OK, Norman," Sig came back to the present situation, "I'll bring him home soon."

Norman laughed, "When you find him, I imagine he ain't gonna wanna to come home."

"Yeah," Sig feigned a short laugh, "Well, we'll deal with it when the time comes, I guess."

"You mean, YOU'LL deal with it, bro," Norman chuckled, "Hey, remember the time we snuck out and met those girls under the…"

"I gotta go," Sig said quickly, no time for a fond trip down memory lane, "Just call here if he comes home, OK?"

"You got it."

"See ya, Norman," Sig spoke softly.

"Yeah," the middle brother replied, feeling awful and wishing Sig didn't have to deal with this part of his assigned jobs for the summer. _What the hell was Edgar thinking? Or better yet, what head was he thinking with? Oh, he's our brother, that's for damn sure. Same blood._

Sig hung up the phone and walked back into the living room, a weight so heavy on his shoulders he physically hurt from the burden. Nick was kneeling down and speaking to Matt very softly, Matt nodding his head and wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Last time, Matt," Sig spoke, "Are you absolutely sure Edgar went to the Shack?" _Please tell me this is just a mistake, a misunderstanding between friends_. Still holding onto a glimmer of hope, Sig smiled at Matthew and prayed for a miracle.

"I'm sure, sir," Matt gave Sig full eye contact, "I wouldn't tell you that if I wasn't sure myself. That's where he said he was going and I believe him."

_And I'm guessing he's planning on running away, too. Why else would Edgar act like this morning was the last goodbye? Well, he's gonna learn there's no running away from your troubles…or your big brother_. "I'm going down there," Sig announced, heading for the door.

"I'll go with you," Nick said as he got to his feet.

"No," Sig stopped, "I can't drag you into this."

"I know what that place is like and you're NOT going down there alone," Nick said in a tone that broke no indifference, "Matt, you stay PUT and if Edgar comes here, you keep him here come hell or high water. We'll be right back."

"Don't go, Nick," Matt cried, throwing his arms around Nick's waist, "It's a bad place. You could get hurt."

Nick smiled, stroking Matt's dark hair and reassuring him that he could take care of himself. The tender show of affection caused Sig to turn and look away. _Why, Edgar…why? Please just be OK. I don't care about anything else. We'll work it all out, even if I have to ground your ass for the entire summer and keep you tethered to my side with one of those kid leashes. Just be OK. God, let me find him before he does something stupid and gets hurt or runs away. _

Nick restated his instructions to Matt and promised to be home as fast as they could. Then the older brothers left the house and climbed back into the truck.

Sig started the engine, pausing, and turned to Nick, "You don't have to come with me. This is my mess, not yours."

"Just drive, Sig," Nick stared out into the darkness through the windshield. _Big brothers stick together…or did you forget the code?_

* * *

The trip seemed to take forever and Sig was reminded that he experienced the same exact feeling when he drove Norman to the hospital. _I can't get there fast enough but I'm scared to death about what will happen once I get there._ He was vastly relieved to have Nick with him but keep silent during the drive, lost in his own thoughts and feeling a lump in his throat he just couldn't swallow down.

The Shack was packed with people and cars lined the abandoned field. Sig parked the truck and had the strangest sensation of déjà vu. _I've done this before. And it didn't turn out so well. _

Sig and Nick got out of the truck and headed to the race track. They searched but could not find the lost little brother anywhere. On their way back up to the warehouse, Sig spotted Edgar's bike and helmet leaning up against the back wall of the bar.

His heart sank all the way to his feet, his last ounce of hope dashed against the jagged rocks. "He's here," Sig looked at Nick with regretful expression and pointed to the bike.

"Let's get the bike on the truck first. Then we'll look for him. At least this way, we know he ain't riding on that nightmare they call a track," Nick took the leadership role with ease, sensing that Sig was out of sorts and needed someone to follow for a change instead of being the one making all the decisions.

Sig was more than willing to let someone else take the reins for a while and helped Nick push the bike down the hill and to the truck. The young men made quick work of chaining the bike to the truck and Sig tossed Edgar's helmet into the front seat. Upon their return, they found Adam waiting for them in the same place they'd found Edgar's bike.

"Sigurd, haven't seen you since graduation. How ya been?" Adam said as he eyed Sig down.

"Fine," Sig eyed him back, "Have you seen my brother?"

"Which one?" Adam took a drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the ground before smashing it with his boot.

Sig was in no mood for games, "Edgar…my youngest brother. Has he been here?"

"Maybe…" Adam looked up the night sky and pretended to think about the question, "…Elliot might know. He wants to talk to you anyway. Why don't you ask him."

Adam turned around and indicated he was to be followed with a wave of his hand. Sig and Nick looked at each other out the corner of their eyes and cautiously trailed behind a few steps.

Leading the older brothers through the crowded bar, Adam ushered them into the small back office and shut the door.

"Nicolas," Elliot seemed pleasantly surprised, "Fuck, man, I haven't seen you in years." He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.

"Since you dropped out of high school when we were in the 11th grade," Nick was unfazed at the reminder that he and Elliot had briefly been friends. He had a past rep for getting into trouble as a teenager and Elliot was a big part of his 'old life.' Luckily, Nick turned his life around and was devoted to making sure his younger brother did NOT follow the same path he'd been on.

"Too bad you went for the college life…you missed out on a lot of fun," Elliot's pleased countenance was a cover for his hatred towards the man who use to be his friend.

As Nick and Elliot became reacquainted, Sig scanned the room for evidence that Edgar may have recently been there. A green leather riding jacket was lying on the floor by the sofa and pair of familiar sneakers sat next to it. _That's my brother's jacket and shoes. What are they doing here? He must be here somewhere_.

"And this must be Sig," Elliot turned his attention to the blond standing in front of him, "I've heard so much about you, taking care of brothers this summer since mom passed away. What a guy."

"Where's my brother?" Sig asked, getting straight to the point. _You know nothing about my family. _

"Hmmm…what's he look like? Maybe I've seen him around." Elliot grinned wickedly, his shallow complexion showing a long vein running down his left temple..

"That's his jacket on the floor," Sig pointed over the sofa, "So I know he's here. His bike's here."

"Yeah, about that…well, we gotta talk about that bike," Elliot sat up and put his elbows on the desk, leaning forward and eyeing the oldest Hansen with yellow-green cat-like eyes.

"Stop dickin' us around, El," Nick crossed his arms over his chest, "Where's Ed?"

"Oh, that kid," Elliot quipped, "Isn't that the one that had the bike accident?" Elliot looked over at Adam.

"Oh yeah, that's the one." Adam laughed.

"Is my brother OK?" Sig started to lose his composure and asked the question in haste, "Is he hurt?"

"He'll be just fine. He's 'recovering' upstairs and has three of my best guys looking after him. How he might be in the future, on the other hand, is another story," Elliot leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, "He stole from money from me and is hiding it somewhere."

"Was that before or after the bike accident?" Nick brazenly asked.

"Come to think of it, it was before the accident that the little shit dared to steal from me," Elliot twisted the ponytail behind his head and glared at Nick like a secret past between them.

"My brother would never steal from you…or anyone," Sig said with absolutely certainty.

"Well, there's money missing and he's the only one that had access to it. My guys know better than to steal from me. I need that money back and your brother is the only one that knows where it is," Elliot explained quietly, "Till I get it back, him and his bike are staying right here."

"I'm taking my brother and his bike home," Sig stepped forward towards the desk, Adam taking a few steps closer to Sig and blocking his path.

Nick put a warning hand on Sig's shoulder. He looked over at Elliot and asked, "How much money do you think the kid owes you?"

"Four hundred bucks."

"You'd risk kidnapping a kid over four hundred bucks," Nick asked flatly, "Are you crazy?"

"Nobody fucking steals from me, Nick. You know that," Elliot got to his feet as he pushed away from the desk, causing the green light to shake and forcing shadows to dance across the walls. "Besides, it ain't kidnapping. The kid came here on his own."

"I'm gonna call the cops," Sig turned to leave but his path to the door was blocked by a large Samoan man he hadn't noticed before. He tried to move past him but the guy grabbed Sig by the arm and turned him around. Elliot had moved around the desk and approached the oldest brother.

"Listen carefully," he eyed Sig down, "You call the cops and by the time they get here, you'll never see your brother ever again. On second thought, let them come. Good luck trying to explain to them what your brother was doing here in the first place. A thirteen year old kid with no parental supervision, racing illegally and getting fucked up would be a CYS worker's worse nightmare. I think he even ran some drugs for the local addicts…at least that's what some of my friends will testify too. I'm sure they'll see you as an unfit guardian, way too young for that kind of responsibility. The cops would have your brother locked up in the local juvenile detention center in no time. Now that place…" Elliot could see his every word was making a lasting impression by the look on Sig's face, "…I could tell you some stories about that 'home away home' that would have you screaming in your sleep."

Sig let out a deep breath, the air coming out of his lungs in choppy waves. "What do you want?" he asked desperately.

Elliot leaned in close. "My money," he whispered in Sig's ear.

"Let us see him first," Nick asked, trying to get some kind of upper hand in the situation, "We're not giving you anything until we know he's actually here."

"Now there's a man who knows his proper etiquette," Elliot pulled back from Sig and nodded towards Nick. "We'll take you up…gentlemen, lead the way."

The large Samoan man and Adam moved towards the door on the left of the room. Opening it, they turned and walked up a narrow flight of stairs. The stairwell and proceeding hallway were dimly lit and the place reeked of body odor and pot. Sig and Nick followed behind, Elliot and another one of his friends the last in the procession.

Adam walked down the long hallway, stopping at the last door on the right and knocked twice, some predesigned signal between the gang of thugs. The door opened and Sig pushed his way past Joe as he stood in the doorway.

The room was only illuminated by one swinging light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There was no furniture in the room to speak of except what looked like a World War II army cot and some a filthy sheet stapled over the window.

On the cot was a figure, curled up on his side, his shaggy hair covering his face.

"Edgar," Sig choked on the name. He ran to the bed, kneeling down and putting his hands on Edgar's shoulder to gently roll him onto his back.

The kid's white t-shirt was covered in blood from his hands. Blood, urine and sweat pooled on the bed in ugly stains that made Sig sick. Dead bugs clung from old spider webs and Sig could only imagine what else lived in this filthy cot. Edgar pants had been ripped and shredded, revealing large, dark bruises on his legs and ankles. A deep purple bruise with the welt the size of Sig's fist covered his brother's face from his eye to his cheekbone. His hands were clenched tightly to his chest, balled up in fists and he was shaking from his head to his bare feet.

"My God," Sig cried out, not knowing where to start or what to say. He never felt this way before. It was indescribable. He had seen his brother sustain lots of injuries on the track, none of which looked anything close to this.

"Sig?" Edgar whispered, hearing his oldest brother's voice and opening his eyes in disbelief, "Are you really here?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Sig answered, forcing a smile and stroking his brother's hair, "Er du OK?"

"Jeg stjal ikke noe," Edgar tried to lift his head but the pain was overwhelming.

"Jeg vet, lillebror."

Edgar sighed. _Someone finally believes me. I didn't steal anyone's money_. "I called for you and you came."

"Hva skjedde med deg," Sig needed to know what happened.

"De skadet meg," Edgar whispered, closing his eyes and forcing himself not to pass out again.

_They hurt me_. Sig turned and went after the first person he saw. He knew if he could get his hands on someone, he'd break their neck in one twist. He was ready to kill and only prayed he could kill enough of them to satisfy his rage. If he'd had a gun in his hand, they'd all be dead. Unfortunately, he was not the one with the gun. Adam, Joe, the large Samoan and two burly men with tattoos on their faces were the ones with the weapons and the advantage.

Nick grabbed Sig from behind, stopping him before he attacked someone. The five men laughed as Elliot entered the room.

"Calm down," Nick whispered in his friend's ear, "They're six of them and only two of us. There's nothing we can do. Let's just get your brother out of here and save it for another day."

Sig struggled against the hold but Nick was slightly taller and stronger and he was not about to let go. Sig felt the blood pounding in his brain like a jackhammer. "THIS WAS NO ACCIDENT," he screamed at Elliot as Nick continued to hold him back

Edgar moaned from the loud voice, twisting violently on the bed.

"Whatever," Elliot waved his hand in the air, "I can get ten people who say it was. Doesn't matter. All I want is for the little shit to tell me where my money is. He's just too damn stubborn for his own good."

"BECAUSE HE DIDN'T TAKE IT, YOU MOTHER FUCKER," Sig would have killed without a second thought if only Nick would let him go.

"I say he did," Elliot countered, "And he's staying here till I get my money back."

"I'm not leaving this room without him," Sig spat back.

Elliot ran a hand over his face, "Then the bike stays."

"Fuck you. That bike is worth ten times what you THINK he owes you. It's his. I'll kill you before I let you have him, the bike or anything else that belongs to him," Sig tried to shake off Nick's hold, turning and eyeing his friend, "I'm OK. Let me go."

"Not till you calm down," Nick squeezed his friend's arms harder but looked at him with complete sympathy. _I'd fight with you. But this is a fight we can't win_. Nick turned to Elliot and said, "I got a hundred dollars in my wallet. Will you take that if we promise to bring you the money tomorrow."

"Fuck no," Elliot spoke slowly, "I don't trust you. Four hundred dollars now or the kid and his bike stays. He can race tomorrow and earn it back."

"He's in no condition to race. You made sure of that," Nick said with meaning. Whispering to Sig, he asked, "Do you have any cash on you?"

"About forty bucks," Sig answered, "But my brother didn't steal anything."

"I know that but…" Nick tried to explain, "…you have three choices. Let Edgar stay here, which isn't really an option. Let them keep the bike. Or give them the money. What do you want to do?"

Sig knew there was only one answer. "The money."

"Good choice," Nick whispered, "We're getting Edgar out of here. That's all that matters right now. Focus on that and not the anger."

"Let me go," Sig asked Nick in a calmer voice. Nick finally complied and released his hold. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and handed over five twenty dollar bills. Sig took out his money and threw the cash in Adam's face.

"A hundred and forty dollars ain't gonna cut, fellas," Elliot looked at both men in front of him, scanning their persons for anything of value. His eyes stopped Sig's right hand and a large gold ring with a blue stone and the year 1984 engraved on the side. "That ring should cover the rest," he said, looking at Sig and tipping his head in the direction of the ring.

Sig looked down at his hand, his class ring glittering in the light. "I give you this and you let him go? We ALL walk out of here with no strings attached?"

"You have my word."

Without hesitation, Sig slipped off his ring and approached Elliot slowly. His friends moved close to protect their leader but Elliot raised a hand and stopped them. He moved his hand out in front of his body and held it open.

Sig placed the ring in Elliot's outstretched palm with no regrets, "Whatever you think my brother owes you, his debt is paid. He owes you nothing now. Just let us go."

"With pleasure," Elliot laughed. He eyed the heavy ring, worth its weight in gold and slipped the ring on his own finger for safe keeping. "Get the fuck out."

Edgar watched the exchange through a fog, like he was in a nightmare from which he couldn't escape. He saw his oldest brother turn over his ring and tried to get up to stop the madness. _I didn't steal anything. No, Sig…don't do this for me. I'm not worth it. I lied and disobeyed you. I broke my promise. You can't do this_. Edgar whimpered loudly, causing Sig to turn his attention back on his youngest brother. As Edgar sat up from the bed, the world spun wildly and he fainted back to the cot.

Scooping his brother up gently in his arms, Sig picked Edgar up off the bed, one arm under his knees and one supporting his upper back. Edgar's head rested on Sig's shoulder, lolling back and forth as he was still passed out. Without glancing back towards the men who did this to his brother, Sig carried Edgar from the room with Nick behind him to make sure no one followed them.

As they walked down the dimly lit hallway, music blaring from the warehouse and people screaming from behind closed doors, Sig was transported back to another time and place. _This is like a haunted house. But this time, it's the real thing._ Sig could hear the words he spoke as an eleven year old boy in a similar situation. _**I got you, kid. I won't let anything happen to you, ever. Trust me?_** Sig held on to his brother and planned to never let him go.

"Keep walking," Nick said when Sig hadn't even realized he stopped.

They got down the steps, back through the office and out the bar room door. People were accustoming to strange happenings at the off the wall place so no one bother to give Sig, Nick or Edgar a second glance as the three of them made their way back outside.

"I'll drive," Nick offered as they got to the truck, "Let me hold him a minute."

Sig was holding Edgar so tightly he was almost unable to let go.

"It's OK, Sig," Nick spoke softer now, "I got him." Nick reached under Edgar's motionless body and relieved Sig of his burden. He could see that Sig was on the verge of insanity with a multitude of strong emotions he was unable to process.

The oldest Hansen fumbled to find the keys in his pocket. Upon finding them, he unlocked the driver's side door and slid over, leaving the keys in the dashboard. Nick carefully deposited Edgar into the front seat, pushing the helmet to the floor and got in. Sig pulled Edgar up against him, wrapping his arm around his brother and supporting his weight as his head rested in the nook of Sig's neck.

Even unconscious, Edgar kept his hands close to his own chest, still clenched under his chin in tight fists.

Nick started the truck, "Do you want to take him to the hospital?"

Sig hadn't even though of that as an alternative. All he wanted to do was take his little brother home. "What do you think?" he asked. _Someone else make the decisions for a while. _He stroked Edgar's back as he tried to reassure himself that his brother was safe.

"Yes," Nick offered his advice and waited for a reaction from Sig before leaving the parking lot.

Sig was in a daze. "They're gonna ask how this happened. We'll have to talk to the cops."

Nick nodded in the darkness, "Don't you think we should?"

"I don't know," Sig's hands were shaking, "What if the cops want to take Edgar away from me."

"Wow, Elliot really got into your head, didn't he?" Nick whispered.

Sig turned to his friend, his eyes blank, "I'm scared, Nick." He was not ashamed to admit it and didn't care the least if Nick thought less of him.

"Sig, I understand why you're afraid but…" Nick paused, hesitating to be harsh in a delicate situation, "…you have no idea why Edgar went down here tonight. Maybe they threatened him. Maybe they forced him in some way. This isn't his fault and it sure as hell ain't your fault. Elliot is a master at mind-fucking with people, as you now know, so who knows what led up to all this. But, right now, your brother is hurt and we don't know how badly. He needs to be looked at by people who can help him. Are we not gonna do that because you're afraid?"

"No," Sig answered firmly, realizing Nick was right, "Let's go to the hospital. I'll deal with whatever comes after."

"I'll lie to the cops for you if you want," Nick offered as he put the truck in drive and backed out of the abandoned parking lot, "We could say we found him on the side of the road."

Sig thought about it for a second. It was a tempting offer that provided an easy solution. _Edgar could get the help he needs and not risk getting into trouble with law. But I can't ask Nick lie to the cops. That's providing false information_. He answered before he changed his mind, "No…I could never ask you to do that for us. We'll tell the truth from the start," Sig couldn't contain a small laugh, "Although I wish I could take you up on the offer. Does that not make us sound like our own little brothers, coming up with a plan and getting our story straight?"

Nick chuckled at the thought. _It does._ "I'll remember that next time Matty gets into trouble. Guess it's natural to want to protect your friend."

Sig thought about Nick's last word. _Thanks for thinking of me as a friend and thanks for being a friend because I couldn't have handled this on my own. It's like you were sent from heaven at just the right moment_.

"I'll pay you back the money, Nick…I swear," Sig said in a far-away voice.

Nick shook he head as he checked the rearview mirror, "Don't worry about it."

"Well, I will." Looking down at the blood on his brother's shirt, one of Norman's old t-shirts that had been shrunk in the dryer, Sig's heart went up to his throat. _Maybe that's why I can't swallow my own spit and my mouth is dry as sand._

* * *

The trip to the hospital was just as long and excruciatingly slow as the last time. Edgar had woken several times, cried softly against his brother's chest and returned to a peaceful paradise of unconsciousness. Sig stroked the soft head against his chest and stared blindly out the window.

When they arrived at the hospital, Sig carried a semi-conscious Edgar into the emergency room and screamed for help. He didn't care if he looked like a lunatic. As the nurses and attendants came running, Sig glanced down at his kid brother in the glare of the hospital's bright lights and, for the first time, saw just how bad Edgar was beaten. The fact that the kid had wet himself with fear was inconsequential to the pain he must have endured.

As the attendants tried to take Edgar away, Sig decided not to let him go. _I changed my mind…I want to take him home_. Several people tried to pry Edgar from his arms, Nick included. Finally, an angel of mercy appeared. Dr. Hubert was on-call and recognized Sig and Edgar as he walked down the emergency room hallway. Despite seeing thousands of patients come and go, something about the three brothers and their sad story stuck with the doctor.

He ran up to Sig, his white coat flying behind him, and pushed away the people trying to get at him. He made direct eye contact with oldest brother and said gently, "Mr. Hansen, I'll take care of him myself. I swear to you…you can see him immediately after we take care of him. I promise…he won't be alone and he won't pain. Now let me take him."

Sig hesitated but finally relinquished his brother. _This man took good care of Norman, he'll do the same for Edgar_. As Dr. Hubert carried Edgar off to the first available emergency room, Sig was left standing in the waiting room with Nick, covered in his brother's blood and feeling absolutely drained.

_Norman_. Sig struggled with the decision to call his brother as he sat in the small waiting room. In the end, he decided not to call and felt horrible about withholding the information from Norman. _I want to be with him when I tell him all this because he's gonna freak out and want to kill someone…just like I do…but I can't let that happen. _

Nick called home and spoke with his mother, explaining the situation and reassuring her he was fine. It was not unusual for him to stay out this late but he didn't know how much Matt had shared with her when she got home and he didn't want her to worry needlessly. As it turns out, Matt hadn't shared anything with her because he was asleep on the sofa when she got home from work around 12:30 am. Nick's mother did mention that Norman had called the house around one o'clock in the morning, looking for his brothers, but she had no information to share with him about anybody's whereabouts.

Sig and Nick had been interviewed by the police and they had told the truth from start to finish. Initially, the officers seemed focused on the facts of the story, taking a statement from both Sig and Nick separately and writing things down in their little flip pads. The police were not surprised to hear Elliot's name or any of his friends. They were curious as to how Edgar ended up with these kinds of people in the first place and one of the cops warily eyed Sig in a way that made him feel uncomfortable.

The police agreed to bring Elliot and his bunch in for questioning but not much could be done without a statement from Edgar and the young man was currently sedated. An older officer whose brother was an off-shore fisherman sympathized with Sig and explained he would come and get Edgar's statement when he was feeling better.

After the police left, Dr. Hubert spoke with Sig and explained every bruise, cut and injury on his brother's body. Sig physically listened but mentally went someone else. Edgar's hands had been whipped raw. He had small abrasions and deep bruises to his face and legs. There was a series of welts and bruises on his lower back and several cigarette burns on his upper arms.

The doctor reassured Sig that there were no broken bones, no internal injuries or bleeding, only minor blood loss. There were no injuries to the brain that they could tell or permanent physical damage to the rest of his body. Everything would heal in time although there would be some scars both inside and out. "Emotionally, the healing may take longer," Dr. Hubert finished.

"I want to take him home," Sig said flatly.

"It would be better if you let him stay here overnight…for observation," the doctor explained, "But there's no reason you can't take him home. In fact, he may feel better being at home when he wakes up. I'll give you medicine for his hands and instructions on how to treat the wounds. The skin is almost like a burn and very painful…do you want me to give you something to ease his pain?

Sig nodded without hesitation.

"When he wakes, try and keep him hydrated with clear fluids. Someone should stay with him for the next twenty four to forty eight hours. Bring him back here the minute he develops a fever or any other complication. He's still pretty out of it so let him sleep as much as possible while he can," he instructed, "We'll have him ready to go in a few minutes. I'll take you to him while we get his medication ready. Do you have a change of clothes?"

"No," Sig whispered, "Wait…yes. I have some of my clothes in the truck. They won't fit him right but…"

"I'll get 'em," Nick offered as he got up to leave.

"They're in a black bag behind the seat."

Nick left with truck keys already in his pocket. Sig stood up and followed the doctor back into the emergency wing. He was led into a large room with multiple beds separated only by ugly yellow curtains attached to tracks that made the room seem like an upside down model railroad set.

Edgar was lying on the bed behind the third curtain. Sig held his breath as the doctor pushed the curtain out of the way. Letting out a deep sigh, Sig looked carefully at his sleeping brother. The baby of the family had his hands wrapped in thick white gauze that had turned a faint shade of red in some places. A hospital bracelet was secured around his left wrist. The ugly bruise on his face, seeming worse than before, was puffy and swollen. Edgar was wearing only a hospital gown over his lanky body and the bruises and cuts on his legs were plain to see.

Sig felt like he was going to faint.

He wobbled forward and the doctor put a hand out to steady him. "Easy, there," he whispered softly, "He's going to be OK."

"He's my baby brother," Sig said as he put a hand up to his chest, trying to run away a pain he couldn't get too, "How could I let this happen?"

"You didn't let this happen," Nick came from behind him with the bag, "You saved him from who knows what more could have happened."

"Wait right here, Mr. Hansen," the doctor ordered, "We'll get the nurse to get him dressed and some attendants to help you carry him to your car."

"No," Sig's voice got flint hard, "I don't want anyone else touching him except me. I'll dress him and carry him out."

"Fine," the doctor was not about to argue. He glanced over at Nick as if to ask _'are you going to stay with them because I'm not sure Mr. Hansen can handle the drive home or much else right now?'_ Nick understood the look from the doctor and nodded, "I'll drive you home, Sig. If it's OK with you, I'll just crash at your house for the night?"

Sig nodded without glancing at Nick, his only focus was Edgar and getting him home.

The doctor walked over the nurses' station and provided the ladies with instruction on what to send home. They gathered the ordered items and placed them in a manila envelope, walking it over and handed it to Sig. He took the envelope and felt another sense of déjà vu. He handed off the envelope to Nick as he signed his name to more paperwork that officially released Edgar from the hospital's care

The nurse watched carefully as Sig dressed his brother in his own work pants, leaving the hospital gown on and covering him with his button down blue shirt. Edgar slept through the entire process.

"You'll have to change the dressing on his hands tomorrow," the nurse explained, partially fascinated with the gentle and tender care in which Sig dressed his brother. "You did a fine job with that," she commented once he was finished, "Show him the same care when you treat his hands. It will not be an easy task."

"Yes, ma'am," Sig said, "Thank you…and please tell the doctor I said thank you."

Once Edgar was dressed, Sig gathered his brother into his arms and left the hospital for home.

* * *

It was past three o'clock in the morning when Nick pulled into the Hansen's driveway. Amanda's car was still parked in front of the house. Nick shut off the truck and looked over at Sig and Edgar. Sig was still looking lost and confused, Edgar still sound asleep in his arms.

Nick climbed out of the truck and walked around the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened the door and encouraged Sig to let him carry Edgar into the house. He handed back Sig's keys to him.

"You'll need to open the front door. I don't know which key it is," Nick explained.

At first, it seemed like Sig didn't hear him because he didn't move or react in anyway. Finally, after a few moments, Sig silently slipped out of the truck and allowed Nick to carry Edgar into the house.

Opening the back door, Sig mentally gathered what was left of his strength for the upcoming battle. _Maybe Norman's asleep and this can wait till morning_. As soon as he pushed the door open, he knew his hope was in vain.

Norman heard the door and came flying into the kitchen from the living room. Amanda was startled out of her sleep and sat on the sofa. She was trying to get her bearings and realizing she had fallen asleep, missing her curfew by a mile. _We fell asleep together. He was so worried, I just couldn't leave him. Now, I'm dead. My parents are gonna kill me. Well, too late now._ She picked up the phone and called home to at least let her parents know she was alive.

The middle brother, at first, only saw Sig coming through the back door, "What the hell, Sig? Couldn't you have called? I was worried sick. It's three…" he stopped in midstream as Nick followed behind Sig, carrying Edgar into his arms.

"Oh my God…" Norman felt like someone plunged a knife into his chest, the exact same feeling he had the night of the bike accident, "Edgar."

"He's OK, Norman," Sig said very slowly as he cautiously approached his brother, "He's going to be OK."

Norman watched as Nick carried Edgar into the house, "What happened?"

"I'll explain in a minute," Sig tried to delay. He turned to Nick and asked, "Would you take him upstairs to his room…second door on the left?"

"Sure," Nick started through the kitchen but Norman made a step in his direction.

Sig blocked Norman's path. "Upstairs, Nick," Sig pressed, needing to get Edgar out of the room as quickly as possible.

"Let me see him," Norman demanded, trying to look past Sig as Nick walked behind him.

"You will," Sig answered, his eyes never leaving Norman's face, "Just let Nick take him upstairs first."

Nick understood the situation and carried Edgar swiftly from the room. He passed Amanda who was hanging up the phone and looking like she had just gotten chewed out by the person on the other line. He offered her a sympathetic glance and she responded with wide, questioning eyes as Edgar was carried passed her. Hopping off the sofa, she ran over to the bottom of the steps and flipped on the upstairs hallway light.

The strong 22 year old easily carried Edgar up the stairs and to his bedroom. As he put Edgar down on the bed, Nick heard screaming from downstairs. He winced as he could make out Norman's voice screaming in agony, the kitchen table crashing over and someone repeatedly punching a wall. Sig sounded like he was struggling and trying to hold onto a raging bull while yelling back at his brother that he was not leaving the house. Amanda's soft, feminine tone was a voice of reason, offering words of comfort and trying to sooth the savage beast.

"Am I home?" a small voice asked him from the bed.

Nick was shocked and sat down on the edge of the bed, "Yes, Ed, you're home. Go back to sleep, now. No one is gonna hurt you anymore."

"The ring…" Edgar whispered through his foggy thoughts.

"That was a pretty ballsy thing for your brother to do," Nick didn't realize Edgar had been aware of the entire exchange.

"It's my fault…" he began crying softly.

"No," Nick felt a little strange but he stroked Edgar's light brown hair like he would his own little brother, "It's no one's fault except the guys who did this to you. I'm sure Sig can get a replacement ring someday."

"You don't understand. It can never be replaced…" Edgar turned to the side, facing the wall and cried softly into the pillow. He fell back asleep in minutes. Nick checked to make sure Edgar was comfortable and went downstairs to lend a hand, shutting the door softly behind him.

Sig had Norman pinned against the kitchen wall in a bear hug, holding him back from getting out the kitchen door. Amanda was still trying to reason with him. Norman looked exactly like a bull, breathing heavily through his nose, blood red in the face and trembling with rage.

"LET ME GO, SIG!" Norman hollered at the top of his lungs, "I'M GONNA KILL 'EM. I'M GONNA KILL 'EM ALL!"

"AND YOU THINK I DON'T WANT TO DO THE SAME EXACT THING?" Sig said as he got right in his brother's face, their noses almost touching, "Believe me, I almost did. But Edgar needs us BOTH HERE…with him…NOT in some holding cell waiting to be processed or floating dead in the river." Sig slammed his brother back against the wall to emphasize his point, forgetting momentarily that Norman had his stitches removed and feeling instantly guilty for hurting his brother.

"Come on, baby," Amanda reached over Sig's shoulder, standing on her tippy toes to do so. "Calm down," she repeated softly as she rubbed Norman's arm and tried to stop him from slamming his fist into the wall behind him.

Sig allowed Norman to struggle against him, knowing he needed to release some of the pent up anger. When the struggling slowed down, Sig spoke softly, "Promise me, Norman."

Norman knew exactly what Sig wanted. _He wants me to promise I won't go down there and kill all of them with my bare hands. Well, I can't promise that. It may be something stupid but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better._ Like a lightning bolt, something Edgar had asked Norman days ago came back into his mind. _**Promise me if Sig ever tries to do something stupid, you'll stop him.** I guess I can't do that if I do the stupid thing myself. I have to protect both my brothers and this isn't helping._ "I promise…Now let me go."

Sig released the hold and was shocked when Norman grabbed him and hugged him close to his chest. The rare hug was Sig's breaking point and he gave into the tears he had held back all night. Both brothers sobbed quietly, trying to hide their faces from their friend and girlfriend in each other's shoulders.

"I wanna see him," Norman said as he swallowed back his tears.

"It's pretty bad, Norman," Sig tried to explain.

"I don't care."

"I'll go home," Amanda went to get her keys but Norman reached out and stopped her.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. "I'm sorry, baby…I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's OK, Norm," she hugged her arms around his wide back, "I have a baby sister, you know. I'd feel the same way if someone hurt her."

"Are you in trouble for staying here so late?" he asked as he let her go.

"Well, let's just say we'll be talking a lot over the phone and not in person," she tried to fake a smile.

While Norman made his goodbyes, Sig walked over to Nick and shook his hand, "I can never thank you enough."

"Don't mention it," Nick shrugged off the thanks like he did this sort of thing on a regular basis.

"Do you want me to take you home or would you still want to crash?"

"I can drive you home if you want," Amanda chimed in, "You live right around the corner from me."

"As long as you don't need me…?" Nick asked Sig.

"No, I think we're OK for now. I'm calling off of work tomorrow…well, I guess it's today…"

"I'm calling off too," Norman added.

"No, you're not," Sig informed his brother, "You're on thin ice with your boss as it is. Both of us can't afford to lose our jobs and, besides, I can pick up extra shifts next week to make up for the money."

Norman reluctantly nodded. He kissed his girlfriend one last time and Amanda and Nick headed out the door.

Sig followed them outside, pulling Nick aside and asking for something. When Nick handed over half a pack of cigarettes, Norman wisely kept his mouth shut as he stood in the kitchen doorway. As the Honda pulled off, he watched his older brother throw away a full week's worth of nicotine cessation.

"That bad?" Norman called from behind the safety of the screen door.

Sig didn't care that he's just been caught but he did feel bad about breaking his promise. "Sorry."

"You tried…went a lot longer than I thought," Norman answered.

Sig laughed, "Thanks for the vote of confidence." He inhaled his cigarette and blew the smoke away from the screen door.

"You lied to me."

"Norm, I'm sorry but I need to calm down and…"

"No…about where you were going," Norman explained, "You knew he was at the Shack and you didn't tell me."

There wasn't anything Sig could say so he ignored the accusation and continued smoking. Norman waited for an explanation although he knew the answer. When all he got was silence, he turned and headed back into the house. Hearing the truck door open and shut in the driveway, Norman wondered if Sig was leaving. He was relieved to hear the screen door opening and then the backdoor getting shut and locked.

As Norman waited at the bottom of the steps, Sig came through the living room carrying a manila envelope. "Medicine for his hands," was the only thing Sig said as he walked passed Norman and up the steps.

The two brothers went upstairs and immediately into Edgar's room. Norman couldn't see much since Edgar was facing the wall and still dressed in Sig's work clothes but he had a clear view of his younger brother's bandaged hands that were curled up to his chest. Sitting down on the bed, Norman stared at his younger brother. "Bror…" he said softly, his voice full of emotion.

"Come on, go get changed for bed. You have to go to work in a few hours," Sig couldn't stand the pain on Norman's face and the hurt in his voice.

"I want to sleep in here with him," Norman stated.

"We both are," Sig dropped off the manila envelope and went to his room. He strip off his blood stained shirt and dirty jeans, changing into a soft pair of sleep pants and leaving the room.

Norman was brushing his teeth as Sig entered the bathroom. He stood next to his brother at the sink and washed the blood from his hands. Norman glanced down to the sink and watched the water turn red. His stomach turned to rocks and he regretted thinking of only his own hurt feelings about being lied too. _Sig must have gone through a living nightmare and I selfishly gave him a hard time about being left out. He was only trying to protect me…like always._

Norman bowed his head, ashamed of himself, and exited the bathroom. He went to his own room to get changed for the night. When he arrived back in Edgar's room, Sig had already moved Edgar to the middle of the bed and the kid was sleeping on his stomach, his arms and hands positioned on the pillow under his head.

"Right or left," Sig asked Norman.

Norman laughed a little, "The side closest to the alarm clock. That way I can get up quickly without waking you guys."

"I have to get up early and call off work anyway but I'll take the side near the wall," Sig explained as he carefully climbed over Edgar and got into bed. He watched Norman set the alarm, turn off the light and lay down on the opposite side of the bed.

The three of them laid in the darkness for a few minutes. Then Norman quietly asked, "Can I touch him?"

"Carefully…he has bruises on his lower back," Sig explained. He heard Norman let out a deep hiss.

"He likes to listen to the sound of my heart," Norman confessed.

Sig sat up and, as gently as he could, moved Edgar over to rest his head on Norman's chest, placing his right hand carefully across Norman's stomach and the left on the free pillow. Edgar moaned softly in his sleep as he was disturbed and moved. Settling on Norman's chest, somewhere deep in the fog, he heard the steady heartbeat and fell back asleep. Norman wrapped his arms around Edgar's small shoulders, mindful to avoid his lower back.

"Better?" Sig asked as he rolled on his side, facing both his brothers.

He didn't get an answer.

Sig reached up and put a hand on Norman's arm so he was touching both his brothers

"Now it's better."

Sig laughed a little and squeezed his brother's arm.

"Why, Sig?" Norman asked suddenly, "Why'd he go back there?"

"I don't know," Sig answered, "He'll tell us when he's feeling better. I'm sure there's some kind of explanation."

Unbeknownst to both brothers, the answers they were looking for were lying directly underneath of them…in a lined notebook with a red cover.

~tbc


	39. Know When To Fold 'Em

Around 3:30 in the morning, Amanda pulled into Nick's driveway and stopped the car. The house in front of them sat dark and still and not a car or person was out this late at night.

She turned to the man who sat quietly reflecting during the entire ride home. "Here you are," she said as she faked a cheery voice. On the inside, she was dreading the return to her own home and two very pissed-off parents. _I'll be lucky if I get off with just being grounded for the rest of my life. I've never stayed out this late past my curfew before._

Nick was exhausted and tried to shake off the haze encompassing his brain, "Thanks for the ride," he muttered, running a hand over his forehead. Even though it was incredibly late, or early depending on how one might look at it, Nick seemed hesitant to get out of the car.

"You OK?" Amanda asked when she noticed Nick's hesitation.

He chuckled a short laugh, "No…not really."

They both sat in silence for a few minutes. Nick took a deep sigh, "What the hell just happened? Tonight was like a living in a nightmare."

"Poor Edgar," Amanda blurted out, grateful for the opening to ask questions that had been swirling around in her mind, "Will he be alright?"

"Eventually," Nick shrugged, "The kid was pretty beat up. I've seen guys get beat up plenty during fist fights but nothing like that. What that kid went through was torture, just plain torture. It's beyond my comprehension. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it." _I shouldn't be that surprised. I know Elliot and if ever there was a heartless human being, he's the one._

"It's just awful, the whole freaking thing is just horrible," she stated the obvious, "Edgar's such a sweet kid. In a way, he's like the little brother I never had. How could someone do that to him?"

"I don't know," Nick whispered, "There are some sick people in this world. _Elliot being one of them_. Makes me want to never let my little brother, Matt, out of my sight. You know…" he took in a breath, "…the whole time we were at the hospital, all I could picture was what if someone did something like that to Matty. Thinking that made me regret all the times I lost my temper with him or ignored him because he was getting on my last nerve."

Amanda thought about her own sister, "My little sister, Sally, takes all my makeup and wears my clothes without asking. It drives me nuts. There are times I'd like to sell her to gypsies. But, let me tell you, God help the person that puts their hands on her because I'd go ape-shit on them."

"Just like Norman, huh?" Nick asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, I guess," Amanda smiled. The smile faded quickly as she thought about how terrible Norman must have felt tonight, "I've never seen him like that before. He almost never gets angry. Norm's usually so easy going and funny all the time, even when I know something's bothering him. He really freaked out tonight. It was hard for me to see him like that."

"Sig was just as bad but he managed to keep it together, mostly because he had too." Nick added softly. _Sucks being the man of the house. Can't ever let your guard down and feel the way you want too. I know how he feels._

"I'm sure he had some help," Amanda glanced over at Nick and offered a shy smile, "You know, their mom always held things together for them. She was the nicest lady you'd ever want to meet. I don't think he realizes it, but Sig is a lot like her."

"I remember Matt talking about Edgar's mom dying," Nick said as he stared at the garage door and the dark house, "What really happened to her?"

"She died very suddenly," Amanda explained, "A massive stroke, I think. She was fine, always happy and healthy and never seemed sick to me. One day, Norman and I were sitting in Chemistry class, studying for mid-terms, and the guidance counselor came to the classroom. She asked Norman to follow her to the office, and I could just tell from the look on her face, something really bad had happened. From what I know, the principal called Sig out of class and, when both boys got down to the office, their dad was there waiting for them. I think they waited until Edgar got home from school before they told him."

"Geez, that's rough," Nick said slowly.

"Tell me about it," Amanda easily agreed, "She was a really nice person. She always made me feel welcomed. We used to sit and talk when I came over for dinner and the guys would go outside to play football or whatever. None of my other boyfriends' moms were ever did that but she really seemed to care about me," Amanda grinned at the sweet memories, "She'd always ask me if Norman was treating me well because, if he wasn't, she'd put it on 'The List.'

Nick laughed, "Yeah, what is up with that paper on the refrigerator? I noticed that before when I was in their kitchen the other day."

Amanda tinkling giggle filled the car, "I know, right. That's something their mom started when they were little boys. Their dad was away all the time, fishing I guess, and she'd write down all the boys' 'naughty' behaviors on 'The List' to scare them into behaving. That would have worked for me because Norm's dad is kinda scary. He always seems angry and barely talks. But their mom was one of a kind."

Amanda babbled on, heedless of Nick's politely timed yawn, "I guess 'The List' just continued even when they were older. She told me once she'd erase a lot of stuff before their dad came home because she just couldn't stand to see them get in trouble. That's how tenderhearted she was. Now that's she's gone, I think those guys don't know what to do without her and it's sort of a little tribute to her to still have a 'List' hanging on the refrigerator door. Maybe it makes them feel like she's still around."

Nick just wanted to go to bed and it was obvious Amanda wanted to avoid going home. Still, he reflected on the night's events and how a fun night out ended up so wrong. _Maybe Amanda is right about Mrs. Hansen still being 'around' because something or someone put me there tonight. Right place, right time. Sig would have lost it if he'd been on his own. I've done a lot of wrong in my life and maybe this was my chance to atone for some of my own sins. A lot of those sins have to do with not being the best brother. I guess, in a way, I was temporarily being the big brother Sig never had_._ Maybe Mrs. Hansen is still erasing bad behavior from other people's 'Lists.'_ "Well," Nick yawned again, "Thanks for the ride."

"Sorry for going on like this," Amanda admitted softly, "I guess I'm just stalling. My parents are gonna kill me when I get home. Have a good night."

"You too," Nick gave her a sympathetic smile as he got out of the car. He watched Amanda back out of the driveway and pull down the street. _Poor girl. I know what it's like to go home to angry parents_.

Turning towards the house, Nick made his way up the path and picked up the basketball that had been left in the yard. Dropping the ball off on the porch, he unlocked the door and entered the house.

The home was quiet and Nick tried not to make any noise as he locked the front door behind him. Compliments of the outside street lamp, streams of faded orange light illuminated the living room and he could see that Matt was still asleep on the sofa, curled up on his side and facing the back of the couch. _Mom must have been too tired to take him upstairs, not to mention he's way too big for her to carry anymore_.

Slipping his keys onto the end table, Nick bent over and took off his shoes. He placed them under the coffee table and made his way over to the sofa in his stocking feet. Grabbing a throw blanket hung over the easy chair, he placed it over his sleeping brother and sat down on the edge of the coffee table. As he watched the way his brother's even breathing caused the blanket to move up and down with a peaceful rhythm, Nick felt a pure sense of relief wash over his entire body. He was a little shocked when the first pinprick of hot tears stung his eyes and he looked away quickly, trying to get himself under control.

In his sleep, Matt sensed someone was watching him. He stirred and Nick regretted his intrusion. He got up to leave when Matt turned his head and looked up at him with deep brown eyes like bowls of sparkling root beer.

"Hey," Matt said sleepily.

"It's still early," Nick leaned over the sofa and put his hand on the back of the head rest, "Go back to sleep."

"Is Edgar alright?" was the question Nick had been afraid of.

_Right off the bat I've got to deal with this one. Great! I'm sure Matt was pretty worried about his friend._ Hesitating on how to explain everything to a thirteen-year-old, Nick fumbled with an answer. "He'll be OK. He got into a dustup with some bad guys but he'll live." …_with some scars and haunting thoughts of the torture he endured._

Matt burrowed under the blanket and turned to face away from his brother. In a soft voice, he asked cautiously, "Are you mad at me?"

Those five little words cause Nick to suck in his breath. Giving into the exhaustion and his brother's need for reassurance, Nick crawled onto the sofa and rested his head on the corner of Matt's pillow.

"Scooch over," Nick commanded with a gentle voice.

Matt was shocked when his brother curled up behind him and put his strong arm around his waist, pulling him closer. It was a very 'unlike Nick' thing to do but Matt didn't question the rare physical affection. _So this means you're not mad?_

"I'm a little pissed off that you would think about lying to me," Nick whispered in Matt's ear, "But you did the right thing telling us what happened tonight. You probably ended up saving your friend's life."

"I'm not so sure Edgar will still want to be my friend after he learns I ratted on him," Matt grimaced in the darkness.

"He will be, don't worry. He'll know you did the right thing," Nick explained, "Matt…" he hesitated, "…I'm real proud of you. That wasn't an easy thing to do."

Matt felt like someone just handed him a million dollars. _You're proud of me? Do you have any idea how good that makes me feel_? "So I'm not in trouble?" he asked unsteadily.

Nick rolled his eyes behind his brother's back. _Shit, I know I've been hard on you but have I really been THAT much of a hardass? I guess I have and, most of the time, with good reason_. "No, Matty, not this time. But don't you dare think even think about lying to me again. It's my job to protect you and I can't do that if you lie. You're gonna have a good life and not make the same mistakes I did. It's just that…" _I don't want you to have to learn things the hard way like I did. I'd go crazy if something happened to you. Don't you know how much you mean to me?_

Matt waited for more of lecture he'd heard a thousand times. When nothing else came, he asked, "What?"

"Nothing," Nick shifted and pulled his brother closer, "I'm just glad you're alright." _I'm sorry Edgar is not and I feel for Sig and Norman. Should I feel guilty that I'm grateful my own brother is just fine?_

Matt snuggled against the big chest behind him. _What a weird thing to say. Why wouldn't I be alright? You're here with me and you're not mad. Hell, you just told me you're proud of me. Nobody tells me that. I couldn't be more alright_. "I'm glad you're home, Nick. The whole time you were gone, I was so scared something bad would happen to you down there. I…" _need you. I'd be lost without you._

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Go to sleep," Nick whispered, "We'll go visit Edgar tomorrow and you'll see everything is OK between you and him."

_I'm just glad everything is OK between you and me_. "Are you sleeping here with me?" Matt asked quietly. When he waited a few moments for a response, all he got was gentle snoring coming from his big brother's nose, the hot air hitting against the nape of his neck. _I'll take that as a yes_.

* * *

Sig stayed in bed with both his brothers for some time, neither sleeping or allowing his mind to rest. He tried to close his eyes but all he could see was the horrors of the Shack, Elliot and his friends and his little brother lying on that filthy cot.

The bruises and wounds that covered his Edgar's body made Sig want to rip his heart out but not before ripping out the hearts of those that abused his little brother. _I would do it with my bare hands. Slowly. I'd make them suffer just like they made Edgar suffer and I'd laugh in their faces while I did it_.

Sinful thoughts of hatred, revenge and wrath drove Sig from the room. He waited until he could hear Norman snoring and then he departed from the bed, slipping out from the end of the mattress.

It was four in the morning but Sig wandered downstairs and made himself a pot of coffee. As the coffee was brewing, he righted the kitchen table back on its legs and into the center of the room. Two of the chairs had been knocked into the cabinets and Sig absentmindedly put them back under the table where they belonged.

He glanced over at the wall between the kitchen and the living room, two fist sized dents glared back at him like creepy eyes. _Well, I guess that'll give me something to do today_. Norman's reaction to the news of Edgar's assault had been about what Sig had expected. _I don't blame him in the least because I know just how he felt. I still feel the same way._

With his cup, he sat down at the kitchen table and stared into the black liquid, looking for answers to questions he didn't know how to ask or handle. To Edgar, he mentally asked: _Why? Why? Why on Earth would you break your promise to me and go down there after everything we've been through together? How could you put yourself in so much danger? Why didn't you tell me? I know you wanted too. You wanted to tell me so fucking bad but you were afraid? Afraid of what? Me? You obviously got yourself in some kind of trouble but you didn't trust me enough to come to me for help or guidance. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? Damn, that's a selfish thought. My baby brother is upstairs, beaten and broken, and all I can think about is myself and how all this makes ME feel. He didn't want this to happen. It just did and it's not his fault. And I'm not gonna focus on the reasons why Edgar stayed silent for so long…at least, I'm gonna try not to._

To himself, Sig asked: _How am I gonna explain all this to dad when he gets home? I have to tell him, of course. He'll know from the hospital emergency room bill that will be sitting next to Norman's when he gets back. And he has a right to know. It's his son. But he's gonna think I did a fucked up job of taking care of things this summer and maybe he's right. The police weren't exactly praising me on my parenting skills. Come to think of it, they weren't much help at all. Maybe Elliot knows what he's talking about. Maybe now I do have to be afraid of social workers or the state coming in and investigating our family, threatening to take my brother…scratch that…brothers because Norman is still a minor…away from me because I'm an unfit guardian. If that happens, my dad will literally throw me from the house by the back of my neck and never want to see me again._

Sig sat at the table for over two hours, on getting up occasionally to smoke outside, and going over the same thoughts, questions and taking a hard look at the last two weeks. Despite his ruminating, he couldn't come up with a single reasonable answer that provided him with the least bit of comfort.

* * *

Instinctively, Norman woke up five minutes before the alarm went off. It was 6:25 am when he leaned over and shut off the alarm clock before it went off and threatened to wake his brother. The summer sunlight poured into the large bedroom and Norman had to briefly think about why he was in Edgar's room again.

_Please tell me last night was just a bad dream_. One look at the bruised face and bandaged hand resting on his chest told him it was no dream. In the daylight, Norman could make out the deep purple and red flesh, exactly the size of a closed fist, surrounding Edgar's left eye. The damaged skin was broken in places, small cuts and scrapes showing themselves like a secret map to sunken pirate treasure.

_Why didn't Sig let me kill them?_ Norman gently lifted his brother's head and arm and slid from the bed, his hand cradling Edgar's face. He laid his sleeping brother on the pillow, letting him rest on his stomach, and stroked the undamaged skin around his forehead. _I'm so sorry, baby brother. I should have been there to protect you_. As he turned to the right, something brushed against his bare toe. _What's that? A SPIDER?_

Norman looked down and saw a white plastic strip peeking out from under the bed. Recognizing it immediately, he knelt down on the floor and picked up his own hospital bracelet. He ran his thumb over the plastic strip and was touched that his little brother had kept such an insignificant item, most likely only because it had belonged to his big brother. _He has a good heart, just like mom. If she were here now and saw him like this, it would be her undoing_.

Placing the hospital bracelet on the nightstand, Norman rose to leave when his knee inadvertently disturbed something else sticking out from under the bed. He reached down and pulled out a red-covered notebook that had been stashed away with the dust bunnies that lived in the dark recesses beneath the mattress.

_Working on your essay, weren't you? Good kid! Let's see how much you got so far._ The middle Hansen settled back on his hunches and opened the book in his hands. The first few pages were a mess of jumbled thoughts and meaningless words and Norman laughed to himself at the many starter sentences that had been left to die a lonely death of literary rejection.

The deep, male laughter resonated in Edgar's ear, a lifelong comforting sound that meant home and safety, and he slowly opened his eyes. His entire body, from his face to his hands to his feet, hurt so badly his whole body shuttered from the pain.

Over his short years, he had experienced many injuries on the track, bruises, scrapes and even a sprained wrist once or twice, but this pain was nothing compared to that. His hands were by far the worst of it, feeling like he had stuck them into a burning pit and scorched the flesh right off.

He almost sobbed out loud before realizing Norman was crouching by his bed, a lined notebook in his hands. Edgar choked back the cry threatening to break the silence and tried to speak, wanting desperately to stop Norman from reading the proceeding page. _Damn it! I forgot to rip it up! Don't turn the page!_ Unfortunately, his throat was sealed shut with dry, raw skin, the result of screaming, and he could only watch helplessly as Norman turn to the next page in the book. _Maybe it's better this way. Then I don't have to try and explain everything because it's right there. All of it. And hopefully my brothers will understand why I did what I did and not have to ask me a million questions because I don't want to talk about it_.

As Norman scanned the contents of the secret essay, his bent knees started to falter and he had to lean his arm against the bed to support himself.

Edgar watched a mixture of emotions play across his big brother's face.

Norman, the artful dodger, had no reason to hide his facial expressions this time since he assumed no one was looking at him. All the sweetness, humor, anger, fear, sadness and regret brought on by the essay read all over Norman's face and Edgar felt like he was watching an epic movie.

Upon finishing the essay, the notebook slipped from Norman's hands and fell to the floor.

_Maybe I should have stopped him because now he seems really upset_. Edgar swallowed what little saliva he could muster. "Norman, please…I didn't want…anyone to see…that," he whispered brokenly.

The voice startled Norman, causing him to look up and a traitorous tear trickled from his blue eye and down his cheek. He sniffled hard, brushing off his cheek with the back of his hand, and shifted up to the head of the bed on his knees.

Kneeling by the pillows, Norman looked at the green eyes staring back at him. "Edgar," he said the name softly, "I…" For a rare moment, Norman was at a loss for words. Looking down, he picked the notebook up and held it up flat against his chest, essay side to Edgar. "You have to tell Sig this."

Edgar shook his head slowly against the pillow, a fear Norman didn't understand crossing his brother's eyes. The youngest Hansen reached out his bandaged hand and, with his fingertips sticking out beyond the white wrapping, gently pushed the notebook back against Norman's chest.

Norman got the meaning behind the non-verbal gesture. "I think," he said soft but firm, "it would be better if you told him yourself." _It's how I would have wanted to hear it._

Again, Edgar pushed on the notebook and then retracted his hand back to the bed, laying it gingerly by his side. He lifted his head and turned to look away, wincing slightly as the pillow case now grazed the bruise on his face. Staring at the wall, he wished Norman would go away and leave him be. Sadly, he was out of luck already today.

Feeling the weight of his stocky brother as he sat on the edge of the bed, Edgar closed his eyes and pretended to go back to sleep.

Norman placed the notebook on his lap and reached out to touch his little brother's bare shoulder blade as it stuck out the back of thin hospital gown. "He wants to hear it from you. Don't you want to talk to him?" he asked quietly.

"No," was the equally quiet reply, "I don't want to see him. I can't…" _even look at him. I'm so ashamed for everything I put him through and that I got him mixed up in this. I don't know how to apologize for this. There aren't enough words. Things will never be right between us. He'll tell me everything is OK and pretend that he has no regrets because he won't want to hurt me. But I know every time he looks down at his hand and DOESN'T see that ring, he'll remember the reason why it's not there. I'M that reason. There are some things that can NEVER be forgiven_. "…Go away."

With a deep sigh, Norman picked up the notebook and stood up. "You have to see him at some point today and whatever is bothering you needs to stop this minute because you're not gonna treat him like that," he said evenly, "I've told you before, Edgar, he loves you and if you don't know it by now, I don't know what else I can do to convince you."

"I know he loves me." _I just don't deserve it anymore_.

"Then talk to him. He always listens."

"No," Edgar whispered firmly, "Just give him the essay and leave me alone."

"For how long? A day? A week? How long are you gonna hide?"

That hit a nerve. Edgar turned his head to face his brother, green eyes filled with pain and sadness. "Did he tell you about the ring?"

"No," Norman answered with a confused look, "What about it?" _Sig didn't say anything last night about his ring. Of course, all he got out was that you had been beaten by Elliot and his gang for some bullshit reason and him and Nick were lucky to get you out of there alive. If he said anything after that, I didn't hear it_.

"He gave it to Elliot…to save me."

Norman took a second to register this secret information. _Your ring? You gave them your ring? Sig…of all the things…why'd it have to be that? I would have given up my truck before I would have let you give that ring away. Now I know at least a part of why Edgar won't talk to you. He's plagued with guilt. Maybe I can make this better_. With a dry cough, Norman covered his face with the notebook and muttered, "It's just a ring, Edgar." _Wow, how easy it really is to lie when you're protecting someone. Just like Sig did last night for me. _

"Bullshit, Norman," Edgar called him out on the lie, flinching from the pain in his hands as he tried to lift himself up, "We all know what that ring meant to him. Now, please, just leave me alone." He slumped back to the bed and hugged the pillow around his neck, leaving his hands dangling over the back of the bed.

"Fine," Norman partially relented, "I'll go but you gotta remember something, little brother. Whatever happened down there, it was NOT your fault. And if Sig gave up his ring to save you, it was his decision. No one made him do that. He did because you mean more to him than that ring ever did. So don't make him feel worse than he already does."

Norman could see his words, despite the harshness, had the desired effect when Edgar's shoulders heaved heavily against the pillow. He softened his tone, "I'm not trying to hurt you, Edgar. Or make you feel bad because I can see how much you already do. But I'm not gonna let you hurt him, either."

Edgar gasped softly.

Norman carried on, praying the explanation would sink in, "I know you must be in a whole lot of pain. _Physically, mentally and emotionally_. It hurts me just to see you like this and I wish I could take the pain for you. I love you, too." Norman choked, fighting to keep back the tears. "Just as much as Sig. And you need us, both of us, more than ever. Please don't push us away anymore because it hurts us, too. _Like you've done for the last week by keeping all this from us_. And I'm not ashamed to admit I don't think I can take much more."

Like their mother would have done, Norman leaned over stroked his brother's hair and kissed the top of his head. He left the young man crying quietly on his pillow. _I didn't mean to hurt you, either, Norman. But you don't seem to understand. I can't live with this._

* * *

Dressing quickly, Norman reluctantly went down stairs, notebook in his hand.

Sig was already plastering the wall and had white putty stuck to his nose.

Norman entered the kitchen and saw the effects of his intense anger. _I was born under the sign of Taurus. What did you expect?_ "Sorry about that. Just leave it. I'll get it when I get home," Norman blurted out, holding the notebook close to his chest.

Sig stood up, brushing his hands together to release some of the splattered plaster. He smiled slightly, "It'll give me something to do today, other than wait on Edgar hand and foot. And I'm not complaining whatsoever. I'm more than happy to take care of him. I'm just grateful my boss has a least half a heart and let me have off today. Of course, he was quick to remind me I'd have to work late this entire week coming up."

"What did you tell him?" Norman delayed showing Sig the essay, unsure of how Sig would react to it as well as Edgar's aloof demeanor this morning. Mostly, he didn't want to think about the sacrifice Sig made and how the guy didn't seem the tiniest bit upset about losing the ring their mother gave him.

"That my brother had an accident," a sad look took over Sig's blue eyes. _Same lie I was told_. _Except my boss bought it._

Norman took notice to the heavy bags and dark circles under Sig's eyes, "Did you sleep at all?" he asked, trying to effectively hide the concern in his voice. _Why can't I just act I care because I do? Old habits die hard, I guess._

Sig shook his head, looking down at the can of putty sitting on the floor.

"Sig," Norman puffed out his chest as he took a deep breath, "Sit down a minute. I have something to show you." _I know this is gonna upset you and I hate that I have to do this. I wish you'd hear this from Edgar but it looks like that's not gonna happen any time soon and this can't wait._

"Is Edgar still asleep? Is he OK?" Sig asked concerned. _There's nothing you have to show me that can't wait until I know Edgar is alright…at least as alright as he can be with a body riddled with bruises and his hands bandaged so the fresh air won't get to the wounds and make him scream_.

"He's awake," Norman said, a twinge of sadness in his voice.

Sig made a motion towards the living room but Norman grabbed him by the upper arm, stopping him. "No," he said firmly, "I need you to look at this first." Gently guiding a perplexed older brother to the kitchen chair, Norman sat Sig down and placed the notebook on the table. "Just read it," was the tender command.

Sig looked down and saw Edgar's familiar handwriting, so often writing on his own broad back at the grocery store.

**This ain't the essay you want but I need to talk to you so bad right now and I can't so this is all I got. **_You can always talk to me_**. You said to write my thougths about what it means to have brothers. Well, it means everything to me. **_You and Norman mean everything to me, too._** You and Norm mean the world to me and I'd do anything to protect yous too. **_Same here_**. When I was little, you actualy use to scare me. **_I didn't mean to scare you but I was young and stupid_**. That's the truth. You were so much bigger than me (still are) and sometimes you were real mean. **_I was and I don't know why. It's one of my biggest regrets. But I'm making up for it now._** I never knew where I stood with you, if you loved me or just wanted me to go away. **_I always loved you. I just didn't know how to show it. Dad didn't exactly do a great job of showing affection and he was my role model. Thank God we had mom._** I guess I annoyed you a lot but I only wanted u to pay attention to me. **_I was always paying attention. I just did a good job of hiding it._

**Now that I'm older, I ain't afrid of you no more **_so glad about that because I was honestly afraid you still were_** because I know you love me **_very much _**and wood **_would_** never let nothing bad happen to me. **_But something did and I still feel like it's my fault_**. But something bad has happened and I'm afrid of something else. **_What?_** Befour last week, the something bad was mom dying and I'm still real scared of losing someone else in our family cause I don't think I could take it. **_Ditto_**. I think my heart still hurts too much from losing mom and it would brake if I lost you or Norm or dad. **_I know how much your heart hurts. So does mine._** But THE something bad now is just what I'm afrid of the most. **

**I can't tell you this but last friday, some of the guys from the shack came to are house. **_They were here? At our home?_** That was the day I was grounded for smoking. **_You were alone that day. Norm and I were at work._** No body was home and they cornered me when I tried to run away. **_Oh my God! _**I tried real hard to fight back. really I did. but I'm just not strong like you and Norm. They were mean and they scared me something aweful. **_My poor brother, you must have been so frightened. Why didn't you say anything the minute I got home? You could have called me or Norman. We would have come home immediately. _**Eliot told me I had to race again because he needs the money for some big poker thing at the shack. When I told him to go to hell **_Jesus, you're a tough kid_**, he threatened to hurt you and Norm. He didn't say it right out like that but he said something about your car and the hardware store and that was enuff for me to get it. **_They threatened to hurt us?__ Perfect way to manipulate you, that fucking bastard_**. He said if I told anyone or called the cops, bad things would happen and I believe him. **_So you kept this a secret because you thought you were protecting us._** You don't know what those guys are like. I do and they'll kill you and I can't let that happen.**

**So that's really where I was last friday night. I lied about going to Beth's house **_and I spanked you for it and you took it and said nothing_** and I lied about getting the cigaretes for Nick. I got them for me. And I smoked and went to the shack and raced and lied to your face about it. **_And I believed you. I didn't know you could lie so well. Must be all the poker training. But the guilt was eating up from the inside out._** And I'm gonna do it again 2night and every weekend for the rest of the summer because I'll die before I let anything bad happen to my brothers. **_I know you would. That's why you never said anything. Edgar, don't you realize you can't protect someone by lying to them. Oh right, I did the same thing last night with Norman. _

**I'm really sorry I lied to you about soooo many things. **_I'm sorry you felt you had too. I can't begin to imagine how much anguish you endured alone over all of this. It makes me feel sick to think about it. _**I know if you ever found out, you wood hate me **_IMPOSSIBLE_** cause I broke my promise to you to never go back their. I've been sick about it ever since, so sick my stomach hurts all the time, like it's full of knots that won't ever go away. That's what's bothering me the most. Not that I'm afrid of something bad happening to me but that yu'll never forgive me. I know I'm doing the right thing but I hate all of this so much. It's worth it, thou, if it means I'm keeping you and Norm safe. You both our worth all of it. That's how much you mean to me. I just wish I could tell you this for real.**

By the time Sig got to the 'my stomach hurts,' he stopped trying to fight back the tears and let them flow freely down his face. He didn't even bother hiding them from Norman.

"So know we know why," Norman whispered as he watched his brother crumble before his eyes. "I found it under the bed. He told me he never meant for us to see it. I guess he needed to 'tell' someone."

"He must have suffered something terrible with this," Sig pushed away the notebook and buried his head in his hands. His shoulders were racking as he sobbed quietly, attempting to keep the noise from drifting upstairs.

Norman slid a chair over and sat next to his older brother, placing a hand on his back and rubbing Sig's neck gently. It was a learned behavior he picked up over the last two weeks. "I don't understand, Sig, honest to God I don't. Why didn't he say anything to us? Between the two of us, we must have asked him a hundred times what was up with him. He could have told us." The middle brother's voice broke slightly, his own tears rising to the surface again.

After a steady breath and long exhale, Sig wiped off his face with his hands and spoke quietly, studying the table as he did so. "Before yesterday, I wouldn't have had an answer for you. But I learned a few things last night. First, Elliot has a way of getting inside people's heads and manipulating your mind to get what he wants. Even though he's clearly a psychopath, he's a very smart psychopath. I learned this first hand. _He almost had me convinced not to call the cops_. Obviously, he did the same thing to Edgar when they came to the house and it worked. Edgar truly believed they would carry out their threats if he said anything."

"Do you think they would?" Norman asked, then clarified, "I ain't like I'm scared or nothing but…"

"Yes, Norm," Sig glanced over to him, "I think they would, if they were pushed far enough. So Edgar had cause to worry. He just went a little backwards with it. Instead of telling us what was going on, he figured he could protect us better by just doing what they wanted and lying to us to cover his actions."

"That's the part I don't understand," Norman spoke up, "How can keeping this information from us be protecting us. Didn't he get that he was putting himself and us in more danger by saying nothing?"

"That's the second thing that worked against us. Remember, Norm, he's only thirteen years old and it's a 'young' thirteen at that since mom sheltered him most of his life. And he doesn't think like you, Norman. He doesn't think with logic. He thinks with his heart. He makes decisions based off his emotions and doesn't think things through all the way because, once he's made his decision, he'll stick with it no matter what happens. How he IS like you is that he's stubborn."

"I'll stubbornly deny that," Norman tried to get a smile from the tall blond with the almost full beard of stubble and bleary eyes from sleeplessness.

"We all are," Sig admitted without the smile. Internally, he did appreciate his brother's sense of humor and effort to lighten the situation. "Edgar guessed correctly that if he had said something to us, we'd never let him go down there and race. There would have been no way in hell we'd let him take such a dangerous risk."

"So he lied and did it anyway," Norman finished the thought.

"Our little brother's stubbornness was the third factor that dragged this on for so long. Hell, he admits it right here, "Sig pointed to the notebook, "He had no intentions of ever telling us. Damn, that scares the shit out of me. Who know how long this could have gone on?"

_It's still going on_. "Sig," Norman bit his lip, "There's more…and you're not gonna want to hear this either," he said softly, just wanting to get this all out of the way.

Sig looked over at Norman, "There's more?" he quipped with disbelief, " What could possibly be worse than this?" The older brother asked as he gestured to the book and the upstairs bedrooms.

"He's pretty…messed up."

"Well, fuck, Norman," Sig threw his hands up, "He's been beaten and…"

"…No," Norman interrupted quickly, squeezing Sig's shoulder, "Not that. He doesn't want to see you…or me for that matter. He knows I found this," he pushed the notebook towards his brother, "and I begged him to talk to you first but he refused. He told me to give it to you and to go away. He's upset…about a lot of things…your class ring being on the top of the list."

Sig looked away and out the kitchen window. _Can we please not ever talk about that._ "I need to talk to him. I'll explain to him everything is OK."

"I don't think he's gonna buy it this time," Norman said gently, patting his brother on the back and withdrawing his hand, "Sig, I'm not an expert on this shit but I think he feels so guilty that he can't look either one of us in the face. I don't know how to handle that but maybe it's best if we just let him be…"

"NO," Sig looked back, staring hard into the same cobalt blue eyes as his own, "He's not isolating himself from us anymore." A slap of the wooden table punctuated Sig's declaration.

"You're right," Norman wasn't going to argue, "I just wanted you to be prepared for what you're up against today. I'm sorry I can't be here but I'll try to get off work early. I'm also gonna ask my friend to work for me tomorrow," When Sig tried to argue, Norman put his hand up, "No, you have to work tomorrow and, believe me, you make more money than I do. If the bastard wants to fire me, I can always get a job at the Dairy Queen with Amanda."

"Norman, they pay shit down there," Sig whined but knew they didn't have much of a choice. Edgar needed to have someone with him for the next few days and there wasn't anyone else. _No mom. No dad. No family. All we have is each other._

Norman pushed away from the kitchen table and stood up, "I'm not worrying about my job. All I'm worried about is that kid upstairs…and you. Sig?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what you're planning but I do know I'm overstepping my boundaries by asking this but…are you gonna punish him?" Norman asked quietly, "Cause if you are…" he straightened up, squaring his shoulders, "…I'll take the punishment for him. I'm being for real…I mean it. No bluff."

Sig was caught somewhere between being appalled and wanting to laugh. "That is THE most absolutely ridiculous and somehow bravest thing you've ever said to me. No," he shook his head slowly, "There's no punishment for this."

Norman shrugged, "I didn't mean right now but when the time comes. Whatever you think he deserves, I'll take it for him. Look, I ain't looking for the kid to get a licking but I figured he'd have some kind of consequences."_ God, Sig, I do NOT think you'd punish him until he has time to heal…from all the wounds._

"I think the consequences of last night, as harsh and unjust as they were, are all he needs to get that lying and keeping secrets only ends in disaster. I just wished he didn't have to learn that the hard way (_it's what I've been trying to protect him from all along_) but it's too late now," Sig carefully tried to explain his thought process. "Norman, I hope you understand what I mean. He did NOT deserve what happened to him but if he doesn't learn from all this, no external consequence I can give would make a difference anyway.

"So your act of bravery is for nothing, although you'd be nuts if you think I'd even consider taking you up on the offer," Sig said softly, "He's been punishing himself for the last seven days. _** My stomach hurts all the time. I hate all of this. I want to tell you so bad.**_ Even if Elliot and his asshole friends didn't hurt him, any punishment I would give him would pale in comparison to what he's put himself through. He has endured enough. It's over."

_I have a funny feeling Edgar's not gonna see it that way, _Norman kept his thoughts to himself. _He's looking for the forgiveness…not just from you but, most importantly, from himself._

"What?" Sig asked when he saw the doubt in Norman's eyes, "Don't tell me you don't feel the same way. There's a reason why you're offering to take his punishment for him." _Because you can't stand to see him hurting anymore. Well, neither can I._

Norman pursed his lips together, caught in his own trap. "I hate it when you're right." _I fold. You got me._

"It happens once in a while. By the way, if you're looking for punishment, try this on for size. I forgot to take the bike off the truck so you're stuck taking the Trans today," Sig grinned.

"That's just cruel," Norman put a hand to his chest like he'd been shot.

"I'm calling the police after you leave," Sig pointed again to the notebook left on the table, "There's no way in hell I'm letting these guys come to OUR house and threaten MY family and then beat the shit out of OUR brother. This stops now," his voice growing passionate, "because no one fucks with us." _As painful as this essay was to read, now I know why Edgar went down there and the police will see that he's not just some punk kid looking for a good time. He had his reason. He was blackmailed into all this and nothing, NOTHING, is his fault. Except not trusting us…me…to tell the truth._ Taking a breath, Sig calmed down and explained, "And if the police want to see the bike for whatever reason, it needs to be here. So just take the Trans. She needs to be run anyway after sitting in the garage most of the week."

"And I'm guessing I'll have to fill her up with that high-intake, expensive-ass gas she likes to guzzle up like candy?" Norman grumbled as he took the keys off the wall.

Sig nodded, "That would be nice."

"Figures," Norman rolled his eyes, "You're lucky I'm running late or we'd take the bike off now."

"Yes," Sig answered sarcastically, "I'm the lucky one."

Norman headed towards the garage and Sig followed him. Both brothers lifted the garage door and step out into the sunlight. Norman's truck, covered with mud and dust, sat parked in the driveway. The lime green motor bike was still chained to the truck bed.

"You could wash the truck today," Norman groused, "That'll give you something else to do."

"I have to remember that," Sig turned back towards the garage and lovely caressed his sports car as he walked passed it. "Take good care of her."

_I'd like to drive her off a bridge. Damn car haunts my dreams_. "No problem. I just hope no one sees me driving it." Norman walked around to the driver's side. He looked over the roof of the car before getting in. "Good luck with him today."

"He'll be fine," Sig brushed off the concern, "I won't push him to talk to me but I ain't leaving him alone, either. I can do all the talking and he can just do the listening."

_Yeah, OK, Sig…again, good luck with that_. Norman shot Sig an encouraging smile anyway. "Shave today, will ya? And get some rest, for Christ's sake. You look like absolute shit." He got into the Trans and started adjusting all the mirrors, sliding the seat forward as his shorter legs didn't reach the pedals. _Why couldn't I be tall like him. Why'd Sig and Edgar get the 'tall' genes from mom's side of the family and I got stuck with dad's 'short' genes?_ After making himself as comfortable as possible, Norman started the car and backed out of the garage. He'd never admit to anyone that the horsepower at his fingertips felt pretty damn impressive. _It may be a Pontiac but she's got the goods. _Finally being able to drive for the first time in over a week, Norman punched the gas pedal and roared down the street.

Sig stood in the garage and listened to his brother rev the engine as he drove away. _You like my car, you'll just never admit it_. Leaving the garage open, Sig went back into the house and proceeded to pick up the phone. He contact the police and asked to speak with the older officer that interviewed him last night. Officer Rowe, Sig vaguely recalled the name, seemed the most receptive and sympathetic officer out of the bunch.

"Hello, Mr. Hansen," Officer Rowe answered the phone at his desk, "How is your brother?"

"I brought him home, sir," Sig answered, "I thought he'd be more comfortable here. I have new information I need to share with you. Do you have a minute?"

"I have to come out to the house today anyway to get a statement from Edgar. You can tell what you've learned when I get there. I have a few things to share with you as well. I'll be by this afternoon, if that's OK?" the officer explained.

"That will be fine, sir," Sig gratefully agreed, wondering what information the officer had to share with him, "We'll be home all day."

The officer took down the house address and bid Sig goodbye before hanging up.

Placing the phone back on the wall, Sig started making a list in his head. The mental exercise was a familiar comfort that kept his mind occupied. As he developed his list, Sig whipped up his best French toast, sprinkled with powdered sugar, of course, and pulled the tray down from atop the refrigerator. Searching every cabinet drawer, he finally came across what he was looking for. The blue twisty straw, designed like a spiral rollercoaster for liquid, was hiding underneath the large utensils in the bottom drawer.

He cut up the French toast in small triangles, just like mom used to do, and poured a glass of orange juice into a tall glass. Dropping the 'special' straw into the thick, orange liquid, Sig stood back and admired his work. _Well_, he though as he picked up the tray, _here goes nothing_.

~tbc


	40. Know When To Walk Away

As Sig climbed the stairs carefully, tray in hand, he mentally went over all the promises he made to himself two weeks ago. _Patience, understanding, affection, comfort and honesty. I'll need them all in spades today. Mom, if you're listening, I need you now more than ever. Help me find a way to get through my little brother's thick, Norwegian skull that I'm not mad, or angry, or disappointed. I have no regrets except that he got hurt trying to protect us and that I didn't kill Elliot when I had the chance. By the way, I hope you can forgive me about the ring. I think you understand why I did it. I know you gave it to me with pride and love but you gave me a little brother, too, and he's far more important than any piece of jewelry, regardless of how much sentimental value it held for me_.

Edgar's bedroom door had been left open and, as he got to the top of the steps, Sig could see his little brother was still lying in bed, facing the wall with his back towards the open door. The older brother made no effort to be quiet when he entered the room and placed the tray on the floor. An old trick learned from their mother, Sig opened the curtains and blinds all the way, letting the sun burst into the partially lit room. He peeked over the side of the bed and noticed Edgar's eyes, screwed shut in an effort to fake sleep, fluttered against the light.

"I know you're awake," Sig said loudly, "So you can stop faking it."

"Go away."

"Nope," Sig said quickly, "You're stuck with me, or did you forget? I brought you breakfast." When that didn't get any reaction, he added, "French toast in little pizza shapes. How can you pass that up?" Still no reaction, although Edgar's stomach growled in betrayal of his silence. "You have to eat something. Here, let me help you sit up…"

The minute Sig touched his brother, Edgar pulled away and Sig backed off, removing his hands like someone had just burned them.

"I can sit up by myself," Edgar gave into the temptation of hot food and something to drink. The fact that Sig could make him eat by means of force, if necessary, also stirred the young man into rolling over gingerly and using his elbows to push himself up to a seated position. Everything hurt but he let his anger at himself fuel his movements and he kept silent, although he wished he could cry out when the headboard touched his lower back.

The pain registered on his face and was not missed by his big brother. "Here, let me put this behind your back," Sig said as he grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed, "I won't touch you. Just lean forward."

_I won't touch you…Sig, don't you get it? I'm not worth this trouble. It's got nothin' to do with not wanting to be touched. But I can see you're not gonna let me be alone so I have to cooperate_. Edgar complied with the request and Sig gently placed the pillow behind his back.

"See, a little better, right?" Sig asked and didn't wait for an answer, "Well," he blazed on nervously, "Breakfast is served." He picked up the tray and placed it over his brother's lap. Sitting down on the bed in the space between Edgar's hip and upper body, Sig picked up the orange juice glass and held it up for Edgar to drink.

When annoyed green eyes stared back at him, Sig pushed the glass up further, "Come on. I know you must be thirsty and you can't hold the glass in your hands. So stop being a 'Norman' and just work with me here."

Edgar almost cracked a smile. Instead, he opened his mouth like a toddler trapped in a high chair and accepted the straw being offered to him. The juice was delicious but he choked as the thick liquid hit the back of his throat.

Sig pulled the straw away and waited patiently. When Edgar recovered, he nodded to the straw and Sig placed it back in his mouth. "I found the twisty straw," he announced the obvious proudly.

"I thought mom threw it away," Edgar muttered back.

_I've never seen orange juice disappear so fast_, Sig thought to himself. The glass was empty in under a few seconds. "Guess not. I'll get you more juice after you eat," Sig promised. He picked up the fork and stabbed a French Toast triangle. Looking up, he cocked his head to the side and wondered if he should do the little airplane sounds mom used to make when she fed Edgar as a baby. _He'd probably not appreciate it_.

Sig did it anyway. He swirled the fork around in circles and made the required "buzzing" noise that accompanied the fake airplane. Surprising, Edgar again almost smiled and did not seem offended by the ridiculous gesture. When the airplane reached his mouth, he opened and tasted the softest, 'eggiest' French toast he'd ever had. _It even has the white stuff on top that I like._

While Edgar was on his third bite, Sig pretended to push the remaining toast around with the fork. "Edgar," he said without looking up, "Norman showed me the essay."

Edgar stopped in mid-chew.

Sig went on, still studying the tray, "And you don't have to talk to me about anything, even though I still have a lot of questions. When you're ready, let me know and we'll talk about it. Until then, I just want you to know you're not alone anymore. And I'm not leaving you today. You just have to put up with me taking care of you. It's OK if you're quiet, just don't fight me on stuff, like eating or taking your medicine…or talking the police when they get here."

Edgar choked down his French toast, almost gagging himself. "No," he said hoarsely, "Please, Sig…no cops. You know why…"

"Too late," Sig looked up without regret, "I already called them. And Nick and I already talked to them last night. Edgar, this is very serious. You MUST tell the police everything that happened."

A soft whimper escaped Edgar's throat, fear filling his eyes, but he remained quiet. Sig offered him another bite of toast and Edgar reluctantly accepted it.

"I can see you're afraid but we can't…" Sig emphasized the word 'we' to his brother, letting him know it was no longer just him in this situation, "…let people like Elliot and his kind scare us. That's what they want. They want us to be so afraid, we just roll over and take it. They're no different than the bullies I went to school with. Believe me, if you don't stick up for yourself at some point, it only gets worse. So we're telling the cops everything…and I mean everything, Edgar…and we're gonna let them do their job."

Swallowing his food, Edgar looked down at his lap and spoke quietly, "The police are gonna be mad I was racing. Ain't I gonna get in trouble?"

"No," Sig reassured him firmly, "You only raced because you were forced to. They'll understand that. You did nothing wrong."

Edgar could barely glance up, "But I did a lot of things that were wrong."

"None of which gets you put in jail," Sig leaned down and tried to make eye contact with his brother._ Normally, lying, disobeying and breaking your promise to your big brother would only get you put over my knee but that's not happening. You don't go to jail for these things._

Edgar looked away quickly, not wanting to see the sympathy in his brother's eyes.

_He won't look at me. This is gonna be harder than I thought_. "Finished?" Sig asked, attempting to break the tension in the room. He held up the empty fork and Edgar nodded.

"OK, next order of business," Sig said as he mentally checked his list, "You need a bath."

Edgar's eyes grew very wide. He held up his bandaged hands as evidence that a bath would be impossible.

"Hence the reason you're getting a bath instead of a shower," Sig causally mentioned as he placed the tray onto the floor, "I'll have to help you."

Sig didn't think Edgar's eyes couldn't get any wider but they did.

"Kid, I changed your diapers when you were two years old. Of course, half the time you'd run around the house naked because you figured out how to take them off. You used to drive me nuts when I had to look after you while mom was cleaning."

"A lot has changed since I was two," Edgar flushed with embarrassment.

Sig hid a laugh, "Yeah, but you still drive me nuts sometimes." Seeing the flushed skin, he sympathized but refused to relent. _I'm not spending a minute longer letting you be covered in the dirt and filth of that disgusting, bug-ridden cot. We're washing your hair and changing the sheets on the bed. And I'm throwing away the clothes I wore last night because they're covered in your blood and urine, another reason I think you'll feel better after getting clean_. "It'll be OK, Edgar. I won't look, remember?" Sig gave his brother a grin.

As much as Edgar wanted to put up a fight, a bath sounded wonderful. _I'm so sore and the warm water will feel so good. I just wish I could do this myself. I feel like such a helpless baby_. With a nod, Edgar agreed to the offered but unwanted assistance.

"I'll run the water," Sig said as he left the room, taking the tray and placing it by the hallway hamper. He grabbed a fresh set of sheets and clean towels from the hallway closet, leaving the sheets on his bed and carrying the towels into the bathroom.

* * *

As the water halfway filled the tub, Edgar appeared in the doorway. The flimsy hospital gown was slipping off his shoulders and Sig's work jeans barely staying over his waist, drowning his lower body in Dickie work khakis. The only thing keeping them from falling completely to the floor was Sig's work belt cinched around his waist.

To Sig, his brother looked like an orphan who was stuck wearing old clothes from the orphanage store room. The bandaged hands and bruise on his face made him look like an abused child, for that's what he was. A child that suffered untold abuse at the hands of monsters. Not for the first time, Sig's heart almost gave out at the sight. _Better get used to it because the wounds aren't going away any time soon, no matter how much I want them too._

Edgar hesitated in the doorway. Sig stood up from kneeling by the tub and slowly approached his brother. He gestured for Edgar to come to him with a curl of his hand.

A deep, uneven sigh was let out before Edgar stepped into the bathroom. "Can't we do this some other way?"

"If you come up with a better plan, let me know," Sig tried very hard to keep the atmosphere in the room light and pleasant.

Edgar seemed to think about it for a few minutes, finally giving up on looking for another solution and approaching his brother in two small steps. Sig held his index finger pointed to the floor and made a circular motion, indicating that Edgar should turn around. When he complied, Sig reached up and began untying the strings holding the hospital gown together.

His hand brushed against Edgar's back as he pushed the fabric away and he felt his brother tense up. Sig paused, freezing in place, and whispered softly, "I have to touch you to do this, Edgar. I'm not gonna hurt you."

_I know that, Sig. I don't why I'm acting like this. I don't know why I feel the way I do._ "It's OK," Edgar whispered back.

Sig slipped the gown off the rest of the way, grateful for the wide sleeves that went easily over his brother's bandaged hands. What he was not grateful for was an unobstructed view of the large bruises on Edgar lower back, sitting just above the belt line, and the two round cigarette burns on his brother's upper right arm.

"Turn around," Sig said brokenly, reinforcing his earlier self-admonishment that he'd have to get used to seeing these things and not letting himself fall apart each time he did.

When Edgar turned around, he came close to touching Sig's shoulder with his forehead, they were that close from each other. He took a step back.

"Are you OK getting the rest off yourself?" Sig asked gently.

Edgar raised his bandaged hands and tried to slip off the pants with his fingertips.

"Here," Sig said as he reached out, "Let me at least get this undone. Then it'll be easier." He put his left hand around the waistband of the pants and, with his right, slid the end of the belt back so he could get it off its metal peg. When the buckle jingled as it was freed, Edgar completely panicked.

"STOP," he screamed, his own voice frightening him. He was startled into crying and Sig grabbed him tightly before he could pull away. Scooping his brother up in his arms, Sig managed to shut off the water with his foot and carry his brother from the bathroom just as he had from the Shack last night.

Edgar buried his head into soft t-shirt and sobbed hard against the fabric. He wished he could put his arms around Sig's neck but his hands hurt so badly he didn't think he could manage it.

Sig got his little brother back to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, putting Edgar firmly in his lap. Over the past two weeks, the position had become a place of safety and comfort for the both of them so it was no surprise Sig sought refuge here through the storm.

Holding on tightly, Sig wrapped his arms around Edgar's upper back and kept him close to his chest. The boy continued to cry just as he had done the first time his brother spanked him. "I'm sorry," Sig pleaded, "I didn't know what they used to hurt you. It was a belt, wasn't it?"

He felt Edgar nod once against his chest.

"That was so freaking stupid and thoughtless of me, Edgar," Sig moaned, "I should have guessed it." _It could have been a piece of wood or an electrical cord but a belt would have been the most logical thing. Fuck, I wish I had Norman's keen logical abilities. _

"They…" Edgar sobbed and stopped.

"Keep trying," Sig shook him gently, "Keep trying to talk to me. Don't give up."

Edgar shook his head, "No…you don't need to hear this."

"I SAW this," Sig said passionately, "Hearing it now can't possibly make it any harder. Just talk to me."

"No…I'll tell the police but I'll never tell you or Norman what they did to me," Edgar sobbed hard again and Sig had to wait for the next quiet moment. While he waited, his mind wandered over all the bruises and cuts on his brother's body and he prayed that all the ones he could see accounted for all the damage done.

"I'm so sorry, Edgar," Sig whispered, "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

"Don't be," Edgar said between hitches of breath, "I had it coming for everything I did to you."

Sig leaned back and looked into Edgar's eyes, horrified to see the kid actually meant what he said. Carefully, Sig leaned his brother's full weight against his right forearm, freeing his left hand and stroking Edgar's cheek. He continued to force his brother to look at him when he tried to turn away. "No, you're gonna look at me when I say this," Sig's voice held the tone of authority, "Let me make this perfectly clear. You DID NOT deserve this."

"But I was so bad…"

"Don't start the "bad kid" shit with me, Edgar," Sig was getting angry at the wrong time and at the right people, "You know how I hate that. The "bad" individuals are the ones that abused you. No one on this planet deserves to be abused or taken advantage of no matter what they've done. So you stop that line of thinking before it goes any further. Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"I wanna hear it, Edgar."

"Yes, sir."

"That's better," Sig calmed himself down with a deep breath, "I respect that you don't want to talk about what they did to you but eventually you're gonna have to talk to someone. I'm not gonna let it haunt you for the rest of your life. There's a reason why you wrote that stuff in your notebook. I bet you felt better after you wrote it, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," Sig tried to play it off, "No, I kept a journal for a long time until Norman discovered it and it got thrown away." _That would be how he discovered I was planning on killing myself_. "Before I lost it, I always felt better when I was able to write down my thoughts like I was telling someone my troubles. Last year, I talked to the counselor at school a bunch of times and it helped me a lot. And you're gonna do the same thing when you're ready. And I may push a little when I think you're strong enough to handle it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can we try the bath again?"

Edgar hesitated, not because he was afraid or humiliated by the idea of the bath but because he figured there was more to talk about. He had maintained eye contact throughout most of the discussion but he was losing it fast as the tears started piling up again. "Are you gonna want to talk about...my consequences?" he asked quietly.

"There are no consequences," Sig stated flatly.

"But Sig," Edgar cried, "I lied to you sooo many times and I disobeyed and broke the only promise you ever asked of me. I put my life in danger. You said…"

"I know what I said," Sig interrupted, _Why did you have to bring THAT up?_ "I guess I'm just less of a man than I thought. And if that means you trust me less than you already do, I'll just have to find a way to earn back the trust."

"But I do trust you," Edgar pleaded.

"Not enough. Not as much as I want you to. If you did, you would have told me what was happening and let me handle it," When Edgar went to argue, Sig interrupted him again, "I get why you kept your secrets. I also get that I'm only eighteen and you probably don't see me like you would dad or Nick or Old Mr. Steward. So I don't blame you for doubting me."

"Sig," Edgar whined, "It wasn't like that."

"Come on," Sig nuzzled Edgar's temple with his nose, "Can we try the bath again? I don't want the cops to think I don't take care of you and you'll feel better afterwards anyways, I promise."

"Sig, the ring…"

Sig hide his emotions well. He interrupted evenly, "It's gone. No sense in talking about it now. I don't want you to think about it anymore. End of discussion."

_He's hurt. He doesn't want to talk about just like I don't want to talk about what happened to me at the Shack. It's a draw. Things HAVE come between us_. "I'll try the bath again," Edgar cut his losses. _It will never be right between us unless I can find a way to fix this…and I think I might know how. _

* * *

Sig drained the cold water and started the process over. Edgar stood behind him, bare chested and still wearing the oversized pants. He watched his brother carefully check the water temperature and swirl with water around like a mini-wave pool.

When the tub was ready, Sig stopped the water, stood up and turned around.

He stared hard into Edgar's eyes, "Look at me. Don't look anywhere else." As cautiously as he could and, maintaining complete eye contact with Edgar, he reached down and unbuckled the belt, holding the metal square in his hand so it made no sound as it was undone.

Task completed, Sig left the belt in the loops and let the pants slide to the floor quietly. He held onto the buckle and let Edgar step out from the clothing. Once the pants were off, Sig wrapped them up, tossed them out of the bathroom and into the hamper, belt and all. He quietly left the bathroom to allow his brother a modicum of privacy for a few moments.

Edgar glanced over his shoulder and noticed his brother's absence. On his own, he managed to step into the tub and guide himself down without letting the water touch his hands.

The hot water was heaven to his sore body and hell to the cuts and scrapes on his flesh. He focused on the heaven and tried to ignore the hell as he sat in the tub, his knees pulled up close to him.

Sig went about changing the sheets on Edgar bed, taking the dirty linens and placing them also in the hamper. Then he changed his mind, taking all the wash out of the hamper and running the bundle downstairs. He removed the belt from his pants and coiled it up around his hand. He planned on someday punching Elliot in the face with it. Instead, he just started the wash and returned the belt to the hook on the back of his closet door.

Grabbing a clean pair of boxers, thin sweatpants and an A-framed t-shirt, Sig returned to the bathroom. As he placed the clothing on the closed toilet seat, he took the wash cloth off the pile of towels and wordlessly knelt down by the tub.

Edgar looked away, letting his hands rest on either side of the tub. Sig was undeterred and remained silent, gently cleaning his brother's neck and back with a soapy cloth in the most benign and compassionate way he could. He carefully avoided the large bruise on the narrow lower back and the burns on the upper arm, moving to Edgar's bruised legs and feet. It was obvious some of the bruises were from getting kicked and Sig's administrations were light and feathery over the boot tip marks.

Dropping the wash cloth over his brother's private area, Sig moved on with a new, fresh washcloth and cleaned his brother's face free of the tiny bits of blood, tear tracks and dirt. He avoid the bruised area around his eye altogether.

Edgar sat motionless in the water, his emotions going from embarrassed to grateful to being at a complete loss that someone in this world, other than his mother, could possibly love him this much.

"Tip your head back," was the only thing Sig said during the entire process. Using a large, plastic drinking cup, one of Norman's favorite beer receptacles, Sig got fresh water from the faucet and wet his brother's shaggy, matted hair. He supported Edgar's neck with one hand, with the other he poured shampoo onto the wet locks and scrubbed them free of dirt and knots.

Rinsing one more time, Sig watched the shampoo run down the back of the tub and noticed that his brother was crying silently, even though his eyes were screwed shut. He was tempted to ask him why he was crying, if this process hurt him or if it was just the stress leaving his body, but he let the question go and finished rinsing the bubbles from his brother's hair.

"You want to stay in here for a little while longer?" Sig asked when he was finished.

Edgar just shook his head and tried to push himself up from the tub. Sig reached under his armpit and let him lean on him for support. The first washcloth fell back into the tub with a splash and Sig quickly grabbed a towel with his free hand, wrapping his brother in it as he stepped out of the tub.

He guided Edgar to sit on the edge of the tub, any need for embarrassment gone as he was covered up by the towel around his waist. Sig towel-dried the wet hair with another towel, as well as drying his brother's back, chest and legs. He stopped a second, pulling a large, square Band-Aid out of his sweatpants pocket and secured it over the two cigarettes burns. Then he wrapped the second towel over Edgar's shoulder and sat down next to him on the tub.

"Well, that's over," he quipped smartly.

Edgar finally broke into a smile. "Now I just have to get dressed."

"Do you want to come downstairs with me?" Sig seemed excited by the idea, "You can help me wash Norman's truck." _I'm all wet now anyway so why not_.

Edgar held up his bandaged hands as if he was part of a shoot-out and was about to surrender to his opponent.

"You can be the supervisor," Sig offered, looking that the wounded hands, "We're gonna have to change the wrapping tonight."

The look on Sig's face was all the evidence Edgar needed that the process of changing the bandages would pretty much suck. Sig's face had other evidence as well, like he hadn't slept or took a second to care for himself in the last twelve hours. "Maybe you should shave before the cops get here," Edgar whispered, "I wouldn't want them to think I don't take care of you."

Sig laughed, "Good idea. Here," he said as he moved his brother over to the closed toilet seat and pushed the clean clothes out of the way, "You sit and dry off and I'll shave. When you're dry, if you want, I'll help you get dressed."

Edgar still loved to watch the shaving ritual and he leaned his head against the wall and studied the process. When Sig was almost done and still distracted, Edgar reached down and grabbed the pair of blue and orange boxers off the floor. With only his fingertips, he successfully shimmied the shorts over his feet and knees and finally up to his waist. The towel fell to the floor but he wasn't embarrassed for his brother to see him in only his underwear.

Before Edgar could pick up the towel, Sig reached down and took it off the floor. _I should have waited to do the wash_. "Can you help me with my shirt?" Edgar asked as he worked the sweatpants up.

"I'd be glad too," Sig answered.

"Now I know how helpless Norman felt after his surgery," Edgar sat back down, trying to ignore the intense pain in his hands. The pain seemed to come and go, sometimes like a dull itch, other times like a burning sensation that made his eyes watery.

"You're much easier to deal with," Sig laughed as he dried off his stubble free face with yet another towel. He took the t-shirt off the floor "Can you lift your arms up?" he asked as he removed the towel from his brother's shoulders.

Edgar did as he was asked and Sig stretched the t-shirt so wide, the fabric never once touched his hands as it fell over his chest. Because of the thin straps of the t-shirt, Sig was able to again stretch the fabric over the bandaged hands twice with success.

"You look good," Sig smiled, carding his fingers through his brother's wet hair and effectively combing it out.

Edgar pointed to his face with his left index tip, "Like this?"

"Chicks dig bruises."

"I thought it was scars."

"Who told you that?"

"Norman."

"I don't know what to say to that," Sig walked away.

Edgar followed him. _I changed my mind, I don't want to be alone._

* * *

Sig washed Norman's truck and Edgar sat on the driveway, soaking up the sun and feeling like some of his normal life was returning. Yet, there was still a knot in his stomach every time he looked at his brother's hand. Staring at his motorcycle, still chained to the truck, Edgar's plan started to come together. It was inconsequential that the plan involved more lying and manipulation because, in his mind, the lies and deceit would be worth it.

The day was so pleasant, Sig decided they should have lunch outside. He made a few sandwiches, reminding himself to clean up the dishes from breakfast, and took them outside. He and Edgar sat on the picnic table in the back yard and talked about normal things.

Sig hid his sadness when Edgar winced multiple times, trying to pick up the bread and bologna. The kid insisted on doing it himself so Sig didn't argue.

When Edgar thought Sig wasn't looking, he would glance down at his brother's right ring finger and feel a strong sense of guilt and regret. _Don't worry_, he told himself, _I'm gonna make this right_.

When the patrol car pulled into the driveway, Sig looked over at Edgar and spoke quickly, "Remember what I said?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar dutifully answered as he heard two car doors open and shut behind him.

"Hiding information from the police is illegal. It's not like normal lying. You just tell them everything and don't worry about anything else," Sig gave his brother a stern nod followed up quickly with a reassuring smile. He stood up and wiped the crumbs off his hands as he ran them up and down his sweatpants. That also helped with the sweat breaking out on his palms.

Officer Rowe and his young, blond female partner walked over to the yard and through the gate.

"Hello, sir," Sig greeted the man with an outstretched hand. Looking passed the officer, Sig had a wave of sexual desire plaster him with a cold sweat of a different kind. The female officer was gorgeous, her curves filling out the tight blue uniform and her long blond hair neatly twisted up in a bun. "Ma'am," Sig choked out as he got a hold of his emotions.

"Mr. Hansen," Officer Rowe greeted him, "This is Officer Markley. She just graduated from the force and I'm proud to be her first partner."

Sig nodded and looked away, feeling like a schoolboy who had a crush on his hot teacher. Officer Markley couldn't be more than twenty years old. _I'm glad Edgar made me shave._

"And this must be Edgar," the female officer ignored Sig before she could have the same reaction to the tall, movie-star handsome blond man.

"Ma'am," Edgar smiled at the woman, liking her kind green eyes. _She looks a little like mom_.

"We need to ask you a few questions, young man," Officer Rowe turned to Edgar, "Is it OK if we talk here? It's so nice out and we've been driving around in a hot car all morning."

"That's fine with me," Edgar replied and watched both officers sit down across from him. He looked up at his older brother, praying Sig would just leave so he wouldn't have to be rude and ask him to.

Sig got the hint, "If it's OK, I'll go back in the house and let you talk."

Officer Rowe looked up from his little flip pad, "As his guardian, it's your right to stay while we question him."

Glancing over at Edgar, Sig gave him one last look that said 'I'll stay but only if you want me to.'

The look that came back was 'I can't talk about this with you here. Please go.'

"No," Sig answered sadly to the officer, "I'll be in the house when you're done."

* * *

As Sig cleaned up the dishes, put away the putty, retrieved the next batch of wash and the tray from upstairs and pretty much found things to distract himself, he wandered over to the kitchen window and tried to learn the new skill of reading lips. It didn't work and he was left wondering what it was like to be a fly sitting on a picnic table.

He could see his brother was crying quietly as he spoke, the exhaustion mounting again, and soon it would be time for a nap. Sig already knew he'd join his brother in an afternoon siesta. He just didn't know if it would be in his own bed or with Edgar. _Maybe he wants to rest alone. I, on the other hand, don't know if I can sleep without him right next to me so I know he's OK. Who needs what now?_

After seemingly taking forever, Officer Rowe stood up and came to the back door, leaving Edgar and Officer Markley to chat about the weather.

The man didn't even have to knock. Sig was waiting for him, holding open the screen door, but not before turning the 'List' on the refrigerator around to the blank side. _Our friends probably think we're nuts, the last thing I need is for the police to think that, too._

"Your brother is one tough kid," the officer remarked as he entered the house

"I know," Sig smiled, "He's one of a kind. Did he tell you about those guys coming to our house and threatening him? He wrote me this," he pointed to the closed notebook on the table, "if you need to see it."

"I think he told us more than we needed to know," the officer seemed glum, "Your brother suffered terribly at the hands of evil men."

Sig blew out his exhale through his nose, "And those evil men? What happens to them?"

"Sit down, Mr. Hansen," the officer gestured to the table, "We need to talk."

Sig knew already he wasn't going to like what he heard, "Yes, sir."

The two of them sat across from each other, the officer staring hard at the young man trying to be a dad, mom and brother and still being a kid himself. "We questioned Mr. Neese, his associates and several patrons last night. They all had alibis and left the station in under an hour."

"WHAT?" Sig said incredulously, "You know that can't be true. They were there last night."

"You and I know that," the officer did his best to explain, "But these men are protected by some powerful people with unlimited finances and police officers in their back pocket. I'm ashamed to admit that my some of my 'brothers-in-blue' are heavily influenced by outside forces and don't always follow the vows they took to protect and serve."

"So now what? These bastards get to threaten my family and abuse a kid and NOTHING happens to them? How is that justice? The kid's gonna spent his life looking over his shoulder. Isn't there anything you can do?," Sig reined in his anger. _It's not this man's fault. He's one of the good guys._

"We'll beef up patrols around your house and I'll continue to look for someone who will speak up on Edgar's behalf but don't hold your breath. The men down there have been scared silent. Other than that, keep your brother far away from that place and get a dog. A big dog."

Sig put his hand over his forehead, "Please tell me my brother didn't put you up to that?"

"Well," the kindly man admitted with a grin, "He would feel better if he had someone or something around when he's home by himself. It's really not a bad idea."

_You don't know my father. It's a bad idea_.

"Here's my direct line," the officer stood up and slid a card across the table, "I wish there was more I could do. Just call me if something else happens."

"No offense, sir, but what good would that do?"

The officer glared at the oldest brother. "You call anyway," the cop said with meaning, "Do not take things into your own hands. There'll be no vigilante justice, Mr. Hansen."

_That may be the only kind of justice we'll get_.

"The races started this spring so Mr. Neese could get a cash flow coming into the place. It was also a test to see if gambling was a lucrative business for the area. I think at this point, they have the money and information they need and I suspect they'll move on to more 'Vegas' style type gambling in the future. It's easier to hide. So I think they're done with your brother. He's no use to them now. This is likely over," the officer explained.

_LIKELY? Until these guys are locked up, it'll never be over._

"Trust me," the officer soften his tone, "I've dealt with this kind before. It won't be long before they end up in state prison or dead in some alley, a bullet through their skulls. Guys like Mr. Neese are pawns, easy disposed of because they know too much or saw the wrong thing. Often, they are replaced the next day. When you get in bed with 'these people', your shelf life tends to be limited."

"How limited?" Sig asked quietly.

"Enough that whatever you're thinking isn't worth it. Don't get yourself in trouble trying to gain revenge on individuals who likely won't be alive while you're still paying for your mistakes, if you get my drift?" the officer tipped his head and turned towards the door.

"Thank you, sir," Sig stood up and walked him to the door.

"Like I said," the officer called as he walked down the steps, "You call me if you need anything."

Sig watched him walk back towards his car, his attractive partner and Edgar coming from the yard and towards the driveway. He paid particular attention to the way the female officer moved. Both officers spoke quietly to Edgar one more time, the older officer ruffling his hair before they got into their white patrol car and pulled away.

Standing the driveway, Edgar's eyes followed the car down the street. A few moments later, Sig was standing next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on," he said gently, "Let's get some rest for a little while."

Rest sounded good and Edgar didn't argue. He followed his brother into the house and through the kitchen, pausing when he finally noticed the two puttied holes in the kitchen wall.

"What happened?" he asked as he gestured to the wall.

"Ask Norman," Sig didn't want to lie and, figuring Norman was the one that did the damage, left him to deal with the explanation.

Edgar had his suspicions as to how the holes got into the wall. "He was that upset?" he asked as he followed Sig up the stairs.

"Someone hurt you, Edgar," Sig got stuck explaining anyway, "How did you expect him to react?"

_Just like you did at the Shack…angrier than I've ever seen you. I hope I never make you that angry because it was freaking scary. You reminded me of dad._ "He was mad?"

"Yes."

"At me?"

"Are you crazy?" Sig stopped in Edgar's bedroom doorway, "He was mad at the guys that hurt you. No one in this house is mad at you."

Sig started turning down the sheets and gestured for Edgar to get back into bed. "I feel like a two year old that has to take a nap," Edgar complained as he sat down and let his brother remove his sandals.

"I'm taking a nap too," Sig lifted his brother's legs up and stretched them out on the length of the bed, "So don't feel bad. The doctor said you need to sleep. Speaking of which," he pulled the manila envelope off the nightstand, "They gave me pills you need to take."

Edgar blanched at the news, "Are they big pills?"

"Let's see," Sig riffled through the envelope and found the white packet. He took it out and looked inside. "You're in luck. They're no bigger than aspirin."

"What are these pills for?" Edgar asked suspiciously.

_I was hoping he wouldn't ask that_. "To make your hands feel better," he muttered as he dropped one pill into his outstretched hand.

"They're pain pills, aren't they?" Edgar said when he noticed the familiar white pill that had caused so much trouble earlier in the week.

"Yes," Sig closed his hand over the pill, "And you told me before you wouldn't hesitate to take them if you were in as much pain as Norman was. No false bravado, Edgar. The doctor gave them to you for a reason. Your hands hurt, don't they?"

Edgar looked down the covers, his hands placed gingerly over the duvet. He nodded and felt slightly ashamed. Norman had set a precedent with stoic pain tolerance that Edgar could never match.

"There's nothing wrong with admitting you're in pain," Sig coaxed him, "Not everyone is as bullheaded as Norman with the 'manhood' crap. He waited two days before he broke down and took the damn things. What was the point of waiting, I'll never know. How bad do they hurt?"

Looking up, Edgar reluctantly admitted, "They hurt like hell sometimes. Sometimes not so bad."

"How 'bout right now?"

"Real bad."

Taking the envelope and pill with him, Sig left without another word. He returned a few minutes later with a large glass of water, accented with the twisty straw, a Dixie cup and a pair of scissors. He sat back on the edge of the bed with his items.

"Do you want the hospital bracelet off?"

Edgar held out his arm and Sig snapped it off with the scissors, placing it next to Norman's on the nightstand. _Matching set. Jesus, that's sad_. Then he took the pill out of the Dixie cup and left it in the palm of his hand. Edgar picked it up with his fingertips and placed it on his tongue, his brother quick with providing the water and the straw to wash it down.

"Easy enough," Sig smiled.

"Do I get a sticker?"

"Smartass."

"Can you stay with me till I fall asleep?"

"I was hoping you'd ask that."

Sig drew the blinds and curtains shut. He climbed into the bed and settled next to his brother, keeping his distance and letting the kid get comfortable. When the shifting next to him stopped, Sig whispered, "OK?"

"Yeah," was the quiet reply, "Tomorrow's Sunday."

"And the day after that is Monday."

"No," Edgar seemed annoyed that Sig missed his point, "I still have to write the essay."

"You can't hold a fork, let alone a pen," Sig smiled at the ceiling, "And you wrote an essay already."

"That didn't count."

"Sure it did," Sig said, "It wasn't two pages but I'll accept it. I give it an A for effort, a B for grammar and spelling and a D for content. All in all, you passed."

"Why a D for content?"

"Because I could never hate you, not matter what you've done. I can't believe you'd ever think I would."

"…I…felt so…bad…"

"I know you did. How do you feel now?"

"Worse."

"Why?'

"The ring."

"Go to sleep, Edgar." Sig rolled on his side, facing the wall.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Sig called Norman at work.

"Pete's Hardware," Norman answered the phone without his usual "Yallow."

"Hey."

"Hey, how are things?"

"With Edgar, cautiously optimistic. With the police, not so much."

"You told them everything, right?"

"Didn't seem to make a difference."

"Can I punch someone now?"

"No…but you can bring home pizza."

"Good call. I'm stopping by Amanda's house on the way home. I'll pick up pizza after that."

"Amanda's?"

"Yeah, I need to talk to her dad and try to explain what happened last night. Man, you think our Old Man is tough to talk to. Amanda's dad is an ex-marine."

"Good luck with that," Sig laughed quietly because Edgar was still sleeping upstairs, "Are you sure it's worth the risk?"

"Of course," Norman was offended, "She's my girl and I got her into trouble. Her dad don't scare me."

_Sure he doesn't. Let me guess. You'll be 'siring' him left, right and center and biting the inside of your mouth the whole fucking time_. "One large plain and one large with sausage and pepperoni."

"Meat Lover's…my favorite."

"I know. Get green peppers on the side for Edgar."

"I'll see you around six."

"Hopefully…if you haven't been drafted before that."

"Ha! Ass."

* * *

Norman walked in with the pizza, looking uncharacteristically frazzled.

"Where's Edgar?" he asked immediately as he dropped the pizza off on the table.

Sig was getting the plates out of the cabinet and had his back to his brother. "Upstairs. I put the TV in his room. He seemed thrilled with the new addition. Sorry, tough guy but you lost…"

"Sig," Norman interrupted, "I think I was followed home."

Sig froze in place. He paused, then asked quietly, "Are you sure? Maybe your imagination is running away…"

"No, I was followed," Norman said with conviction, "Same black Mustang with tinted windows followed me over to Amanda's house. I noticed it right away when I left the hardware store but I didn't think anything of it. Just admired the car at the time. When I left Amanda's, the same car was parked down the street. It left the same time I did and followed me to the pizza shop. When I picked up the pay phone outside the pizza joint and pretended to make a call, it sped away."

By the time Norman was done with the account of his trip home, Sig had placed the plates on the table and sat down before he got sick. "Did you see who it was?" he whispered, matching Norman's previous tone for the sake of their younger brother and his 'K-9' like ears.

Norman shook his head, "Windows were too dark and the glare off the windshield made it impossible. What da ya think? Could be nothing, I guess?"

"I doubt it."

"Any chance there's some girl out there you jilted and who would recognize your car and want to follow you home?" Norman asked hopefully.

Sig only cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, "No."

The older brothers grew quiet, Sig reflecting on his next course of action and Norman trying to remember where dad kept the keys to the gun cabinet. The man hunted on occasion with his friends in the off season and had a small, locked cabinet in the basement.

"You're staying home tomorrow, right?" Sig asked as he formulated a safety plan.

Norman nodded, "Bob's gonna work for me."

Sig seemed pleased with the information, "Good. You and Edgar do not leave this house under any circumstances."

"Groceries?"

"It can wait…not under any circumstances, Norman. I mean that."

"What'cha you gonna do?"

"I'll think of something," Sig seemed shaken out of his trance, "Come on, let's eat."

* * *

Norman and Sig did a fine job of hiding their concern while Edgar joined them for dinner. Norman told the tale of his conversation with Amanda's dad and how the man seemed to ignore most of what he said. He had been sent on his way without making a successful argument in Amanda's defense.

Edgar enjoyed the plain pizza, adding extra green peppers and letting Norman and Sig take turns holding the slices up for him to bite.

After dinner, Sig and Norman removed Edgar's bike from the truck at a pressing pace, both realizing it was a sitting target in their driveway. Norman parked the truck in the garage. All three vehicles were locked away behind the two metal doors, dad's Chevy Tahoe still parked somewhere down at the pier where the F/V Northwestern docked in the offseason.

Nick and Matt stopped by after dinner. Matt and Edgar went up to Edgar's room and acted like nothing happened, hooking up Matt's Atari to the TV in Edgar's bedroom. Matt showed Edgar how to play and the joystick was easy for Edgar to manipulate with his fingertips.

Nick and Sig sat at the kitchen table, having a cup of coffee and whispering about the previous night, the lack of police support and the strange Mustang that followed Norman home. The trailed middle brother stood in the kitchen, feeling left out of the conversation and, strangely, a little jealous of Nick.

"I know Elliot," Nick said slowly, "He'll never change. The only thing that'll stop him is a show of force."

"I could show him a few things," Norman chirped up.

Sig ignored him, his attention forced solely on Nick. "What do you think I should do?"

Norman's mouth gaped open. _We should do, Sig...WE. Why are you leaving me out of this?_

"Get some friends together. I have a few buddies I trust that own me a favor or two. We'll go down there tomorrow night and confront the bastards."

Norman closed his mouth. _OK, maybe Nick is alright. I like his plan very much._

"Look, Nick," Sig said carefully, "I'm no coward and I'm not afraid but I have two brothers to look after this summer and, if I get hauled into jail for fighting, what's gonna happen to them? You at least have your mom to look after Matt. Not that I can even ask you to do this for me. You've done enough."

"Sig, we aren't looking for a fight," Nick reassured him, "Just a show of solidarity that you're not helpless and alone. Elliot got his sensitive ego bruised when he got questioned last night. He'll back off once he knows the risks of continuing to harass your family is no longer worth it. The last thing he needs is to bring a spotlight to that place now that company is coming."

"Company?"

"Word on the street is that a big poker tournament is happening down there sometime this week. The owners and some of his friends are coming in from out of town," Nick explained

Sig thought about yesterday's lunch, "I remember someone saying something to me about that. Thursday, right?"

"Yeah, so I hear. Elliot must been going crazy knowing his boss is coming to 'inspect' the place, his nuts being the first on the chopping block if shit should go wrong. Broken tables and smashed walls are the last things he needs, along with more questions from the cops," Nick smiled, "Trust me. This will work."

"I'll think about," Sig said softly.

"THINK ABOUT IT?" Norman had heard enough, "Let's do it. What the hell are we waiting for?"

"Please excuse my brother. He's a little out of sorts lately," Sig stood up and dumped his remaining coffee in the sink, grabbing Norman by his shirt and hissing softly in his ear, "SHUT UP. We'll talk later." Sig refilled his cup and sat back down.

Norman left the kitchen with his tale between his legs, effectively scolded and humiliated. In his head, he said some very unkind things about his older brother that he'd never verbally repeat. He wandered upstairs and checked on the kids, fascinated with the game system and challenging his brother to an intense game of Pong.

* * *

As it turned out, there was no discussion later than evening. Matt and Nick stayed for a long time, finally leaving when Sig insisted Edgar needed his rest.

Edgar bid his friend a goodbye, the honorary 'no hard feelings' speech taking place between them.

Sig promised to call Nick tomorrow with his decision.

Norman hid in the garage.

After Nick and Matt left, Sig locked the back door and went through the entire house, making sure every window was shut and locked tightly. He turned on the central air and peeking into the garage.

"We have to change the dressing on his hands," he muttered to the two legs sticking out from under the truck.

_NOW, it's WE_, Norman thought to himself. "Let me wash my hands and I'll be up."

Edgar was still playing video games, his new-found addiction. Matt had let him borrow the system for the week and Edgar planned to make use of all the time he had.

Sig had other plans. "TV off."

"But Sig.."

"You're really gonna argue with me? Because it can go back to Matt's tonight."

"No, sir," Edgar bowed his head, pushing the off buttons on the TV and system with his fingers.

Sig hooked his finger, indicating Edgar needed to follow him. After brushing his brother's teeth for him, Sig insisted he take another pain pill before he even considered addressing the bandage changing.

Norman sauntered upstairs, trying to keep what pride he had left, and the three of them chatted about nothing while waiting for the medication to kick in.

When Edgar started having trouble keeping his eyes open, Sig orchestrated the entire horrific process.

It was brutal. For Edgar and his brothers. Norman threw up afterwards, hiding the noise of vomiting while running the shower water.

Despite his drug-induced state, Edgar cried piously as the bandages were removed. Sig had Norman sit behind him, gently but firmly holding his hands and talking to his little brother in the soft Norwegian language.

Once the bandages were removed, Norman took one glance and looked away, the sight forever etched in his brain none the less. He kept his eye focused on Sig's face during the rest of the gruesome process and wondered how his older brother found the strength to keep going, applying the salve provided by the hospital and rewrapping the hands in the clean gauze, all the while Edgar sobbed into Norman's neck.

Sig was so gentle but intent on completing the task. Norman realized later, while taking a shower, that the three spankings his brother administered over the last two weeks was almost like training camp for the horrible situation. _Ignore the crying, stay firm but be compassionate. See the thing through to completion because that's what needs to be done. Needs to be done_, Norman laughed at the reminder, curing the sick feeling in his belly and diluting the image of the raw skin on his brother's hands.

By the time Norman returned to Edgar's room, both his brothers had fallen asleep. He figured Edgar had enough security and, he was still pissed at Sig, so Norman left for his own room, feeling once more left out.

* * *

The following morning, Sig went to leave for work and treated himself to a complimentary cigarette on the front porch. _I'll quit when this is over_.

As he stepped outside, his boot knocked into something lying right outside the door. Looking down, Sig's hand started to shake.

A rat, it's throat sliced, had been left as a silent message.

Sig disposed of the murdered animal when he got to work, wrapped it up in an old dishtowel he used to clean the blood up off the porch. By the docks, the dead rat joined a million others in a watery grave. Since he'd gotten to work early, Sig made a quick call at the pay phone down the street. The call was to Nick. His decision about tonight was made. It was the first of many calls that day.

~tbc


	41. A Break

**READERS: I needed a break.**

* * *

While Sig disposed of the rat and called every friend he had, Norman made breakfast in the kitchen. While waiting for the bacon to sizzle, he strolled out to the garage and puttered around a bit.

His eyes moved over the lime-green motorbike and he smiled, thinking of a happier time and place.

********Norman's flashback********

**October 1983**

"Where is he?" their mother stood up, temporarily obstructing the view of the crowd behind them.

"Mom, sit down," Norman tugged on her pink cardigan sweater, "His race doesn't start from another ten minutes."

She still craned her neck over the multitude of people and scanned the track for her 'baby.' When she spotted the lime green bike at the starting line, she bounced up and down excitedly. "There he is, Norman." Her eyes were glued on the twelve-year-old, clad in his green riding jacket and race pants, the racing boots mom bought him coming up to his knees.

Clapping her hands with anticipation, she finally sat down and put her arm around Norman's upper bicep. "I'm so nervous," she exclaimed, "He's never raced at the elite level before. Do you think he's nervous?"

"Not as much as you are, Mom," Norman felt his mother trembling against him. Whether it was because of the autumn chill or the excitement, Norman didn't know. "He's been practicing for months. He's ready for this. Stop worrying."

"Where is Sig?" Mom looked around the stands for her eldest son, "He went to get hot dogs twenty minutes ago."

_More like he went to catch a quick smoke_, Norman rolled his eyes at the thought. "He'll be here. He won't miss this."

"He hasn't been himself lately, Norman," Mom reflected, "Ever since Sara stopped coming by the house. I didn't say anything but I'm guessing they're fighting again."

_Should I tell her? She'll find out anyway_. "They broke up."

"They'll get back together," Mom dismissed the news with a wave of her hand, "They always do."

"Not this time," Norman explained sadly, "She's with another guy. Has been for about a week now. She told Sig she doesn't want to see him anymore. He tried talking to her a couple of times but she blew him off."

Mom put her manicured hand over her mouth, hiding her gasp. "Oh, Norman, my poor Sig. He was in love with her. Now, he must be heartbroken."

_That's an understatement_. "Don't tell him I told you, please, he'll kill me. I think he just wants to pretend like everything's OK."

"But's it not. He's been so distant lately. And so solemn. At least now I know why," her blond hair floated in the brisk breeze and her green eyes were full of concern. Her boy were suffering and there was nothing she could do about it.

Norman hugged her arm close to his chest and gave her a small smile.

A few minutes later, the oldest son arrived with a cardboard box of hot dogs and Cokes. Taking a seat on the bleachers, he sat on the other side of his mother and handed down the food to both her and Norman.

Mom seemed particularly interested in Sig all of a sudden, staring at him in a strange way and making him feel like he'd just been caught picking on Edgar.

"What?" he asked when he could no longer stand the piercing green eyes. _You know I went to smoke. You've known for four years I smoke. You waited until now to lay down the law with me about it?_

"Nothing, baby," she whispered back, "Just that I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom," Sig glanced over behind his mother's back and looked at Norman with a confused face.

Norman only shrugged. "Look, the race is starting."

Mom nervously grabbed Sig's arm and held onto both her teenage sons as she bit her lip in anticipation. "I wish your father could be here."

_He'd be bored out of his mind_, both brothers thought at the same time.

She looked down at Sig's hand, watching him unconsciously twist the ring on his finger. The oldest brother was just as nervous as she was and the knowledge made her smile.

The race started and mom hid her face in Norman's chest most of the time. Sig had to relay the events to her like an underpaid TV sports commentator. "He's looking for his break, just staying with the rest of the pack until he finds it," he announced.

"He's so competitive," Mom mumbled over the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd, "He doesn't know how to lose. He'll be devastated if he doesn't win."

"He'll win," Sig said with complete confidence, "He'll never let those guys beat him."

"Mom, why do you come if you're not gonna watch?" Norman leaned down and whispered into her ear.

"All the bumps and turns, I'm scared to death he'll fly off the track and…Oh, I can't even say it," she hugged her middle son.

Norman glanced at Sig and rolled his eyes.

After a fierce first trip around the course, Edgar made his move and broke out in front of the pack.

"He's in the lead," Sig reported, his voice betraying his excitement.

Mom finally looked up and got into the spirit of the race. She stood up and cheered when the final lap bell rang and Edgar was still leading the pack. Screaming at the top of her lungs like he could somehow hear her, she urged her son to victory. Norman and Sig were infected with her effervescent nature and joined her in screaming as Edgar made his way around the last corner of the track.

When Edgar crossed the finish line first, his family celebrated like he'd just won the Super Bowl, World Series and an Olympic Gold Medal all at the same time. They were still acting like crazed lunatics when Edgar pulled off his helmet and scanned the crowd in the bleachers.

His eyes found the people he was looking for and he waved wildly. His mother and brothers waved back, mom brushing the tears off her face.

"I have to get my camera," Mom said in a hurry, digging through her oversized purse that seemed like a bottomless pit to her sons.

A large trophy and half a roll of film later, the family drove home in the Chevy Tahoe, the bike in the trailer hooked up to the back.

********End Flashback********

Norman heard the bacon popping on the stove and went back into the kitchen. _I wonder where that trophy got off to_. Preparing a full course meal of bacon, toast, eggs, home fries with all the fixings, he carried the plate up to Edgar's room and laughed to himself about how life has a way of letting you return the favors bestowed upon you. _You brought me breakfast when I was ailing. Now, it's your turn, little brother._

~tbc

**A/N: Back to Shack now**


	42. Know When To Run

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews - honestly, I don't deserve them. Two more "Shack" related chapters after this one. They've been written in my head for months now so the chapters should come out quickly. My poor Beta has been on overdrive with this storyline so a big thanks to her!**

**All previous warnings stand (especially language but these are future fishermen so what can I say) and I own nothing (except the ring - that's mine and I want it back!). **

* * *

After Sig made his second to last call, he dialed the pay phone one more time. As the first raindrops pattered on the glass booth, the phone rang three times before someone answered.

"Yallow," Norman spoke into the upstairs hallway phone, his left hand holding the receiver, breakfast tray balanced on his right. _Shit, I hope it's not my boss calling and telling me I have to get my ass to work. Who else would call at 6:45 in the morning?_

"Norman, it's me," Sig leaned against the graffiti-covered glass, settling his nerves and praying his perceptive brother didn't pick up on his anxiety. _Be calm. No need to tell him about the rat. I don't even wanna know about it. Someone had to leave it there which means someone was at our house last night…on our back porch…right by the door…while we slept soundly in our beds. _

"So it is," he laughed. _Duh, I know your voice_. "Aren't you at work? Your shift starts in, like, another fifteen minutes." Norman placed the tray down on the floor and checked his wrist watch. _Did I lose track of time reminiscing in the garage?_

"I'm at the pay phone down the street," Sig spoke quickly, "Listen, stay inside the house today. I meant what I said last night about not going anywhere. Not even to the park or to the 7-11. NO WHERE, got it! Keep the doors and windows locked. The officer that interviewed Edgar…his phone number is on the refrigerator. Call him immediately if anything…weird…happens while I'm not home. Did you get that?"

The rain started falling at a steady pace but Sig got no response on the other line.

"Norman," he said louder, "Did you get that?"

Finally, a very suspicious "What's wrong? Did something else happen? Is your car OK?" barrage of questions was the answer.

_He doesn't miss anything, does he?_ "Nothing, I just want you and Edgar to stay home," Sig lowered his tone, striving to sound 'normal' and only mildly worried instead of totally unnerved and freaked out. "I'm heading right over to Nick's house after work. I'll be home later. Don't worry about dinner. I'll pick up something…"

Norman pulled the phone cord into his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot. He hissed, "Why ya gonna go to Nick's?" keeping his voice soft for Edgar's benefit but with just the right amount of annoyance so Sig would know he was irritated. _I know why. I just want to see if you're gonna lie to me or tell me the truth_.

_Do I lie or tell him the truth? He's gonna know either way_. "We're going down to the Shack tonight and confront Elliot and his goons."

"I'm coming with you!" _You're not leaving me outta this!_

"Norman, you're staying out of this. I have more than enough guys going with me. It'll be fine. I got this covered."

"NO," Norman said through clenched teeth, his jaw muscles flexing and his hand squeezing the phone, "No fucking way, Sig. You're not going down there without me."

"YES, I am," Sig hissed back, "I don't have time…"

"Give me one good reason why I can't go? I have a truck…it has gas…I know how to drive…and I know how to get there. What the hell is gonna stop me?"

"Me, you fucking stubborn bastard," Sig lost his patience, the tension of the last few days boiling over, "I can give you five good reasons why you can't go but I don't have time to explain myself right now. I'm telling you to STAY the fuck home and I mean it. You disobey me and I swear to God, the 'List' won't be an option this time."

Norman huffed, "You don't scare me."

_You might want to rethink that statement, little brother. Let's not go there. I just want him to do as I say. Didn't I learn anything the last time I gave someone a warning if they disobeyed me_. "You promised me, Norman," Sig went from demanding to begging, feeling like the 'emotional blackmail' trick might be a better method of getting compliance, "You promised you'd listen to me this summer, for Edgar's sake. Now, I'm telling you to stay home, take care of our brother and don't worry anything else. Do you hear me?"

Silence. _Take care of my brother…which one? The younger one that's suffering from the torture he endured, raw hands and bruises all over his body, or the older one that's about to go to a dangerous place tonight and confront the cold-blooded assholes that inflicted the torture_.

"DO YOU HEAR ME?" Sig demanded.

_The younger one comes first. I can't leave him here alone because I want to go bust some heads. Doesn't mean I have to like it._ "This isn't fair," Norman whined softly.

"I know, tough guy, but I have my reasons," Sig softened his tone, "I'll call you before we leave Nick's house."

"Sig," Norman's anger caved at the thought of his brother going into a volatile situation without him, at all, for that matter, "Don't go. I don't want you…" he couldn't finish the sentence out loud. _…to get hurt. Or to commit an act you'll regret._

"I'll be fine, Norm," Sig concealed the fear in his voice, "We're just going down there to rattle a few cages, nothing more. I'll be home in time to play cards with Edgar. Tell him I said that."

"What do I tell him when you don't come home for dinner?" Norman asked honestly, "You've realized I'm going to have to lie to him."

_Like I'm doing right now about why I'm so nervous. Damn rat. Damn everything. I hate these little lies we're started telling each other_. "Tell him I'm going out with Nick. It's technically not a lie."

"OK," Norman whispered, "Sig…be careful." _This is one of those times I want to tell you 'I love you' and can't._

"I will." _I love you, Norman. That's why you're not coming with me._

"See ya."

"See ya back."

Click.

* * *

The rain had stopped by the time Sig punched out for the day. He left work at six o'clock and headed straight for Nick's house. He didn't bother to pick up anything to eat, food being the last thing from his mind. _I just want to get this over with_.

"Hey, Sig," Nick greeted him when he opened the door, "Come on in. My mom took Matt to The Ponderosa for dinner so nobody's home. Did you eat?" Sig noticed Nick was dressed in a dark purple button-down shirt and black dress pants.

"No. You?"

"Yeah, I went out to eat with my girlfriend. She likes that new place up on Main. Man, it was expensive but the food was phenomenal. You should try it out sometime. I dropped Gwen off at home and just got back. I haven't had time to change yet," Nick seemed strangely excited about the upcoming meeting at the Shack, like he was happy tapping into some adrenalin rarely needed for the mundane college life. "Those guys meeting us like I said?"

"Yeah," Sig nodded, sitting down on the sofa, "At the abandoned gas station just off the back road to the Shack. They'll be there at seven."

"You sure they're coming?" Nick asked as he walked into the kitchen and turned on the light.

"They'll be there," Sig leaned over and called down the hallway, "I went to school with most of them. I'm lucky they just got back from Mexico yesterday."

"Mexico?"

"Senior week…or in their case, senior weeks. They're good guys. All have dads that fish in Alaska and they're destined to spend the next few years stuck on a boat in the middle of the Bering Sea. This was their last "hurrah," so to speak," Sig felt a momentary pang of regret. _It should have been my last 'hurrah,' too_.

"Anybody I know?" Nick came back into the living room, two cans of beer in his hand. He offered one to Sig with an outstretched hand.

Sig took the beer, popping the top and sipping the bitter golden delight, placing it on the trivet by the end table. _It would be rude to refuse, plus I'd look like a punk not taking it. Not to mention, I could use some liquid courage_. "The Hillstrands…do you know them?"

Nick almost dropped his beer. He sat down heavily on the lounge chair, spreading his legs wide and balancing the beer can on his knee. "The Hillstrands? Are you freaking kidding me?"

Sig laughed, the first smiled breaking his lips all day, "Yeah…I guess you know them."

"I went to school with the oldest brother, David. Shit, he was a fucking badass dude."

"Well, I guess when you have four little brothers just as badass as you, you have to be. I graduated with Jonathan and Andy. John flunked a grade somewhere in middle school and it always pissed him off that he was in the same grade as his younger brother. They'll both be there. And Phil Harris. He's a good guy. His dad fished for a long time in Alaska. And the Colburn brothers, although I doubt they'll make much of an impression. The oldest one, Keith, was president of our class. He's kind of a prick but his brother, Monty, is pretty decent," Sig finished his list of associates and took another sip of beer. _OK, last sip. Promise._

Nick absorbed the information. _If John and Andy are anything like their older brother, they won't hesitate to throw down if things go south. Last thing we need are guys that are gonna turn tail and run if fists start flying_. "You trust these guys?"

"Absolutely," Sig answered with confidence. When he noticed Nick's doubtful gaze, he smiled. "Nick, you have to understand something. The fishing community is tight knit. It's like an extended family. For years, despite being rivals, fishermen and their families have stuck together and pulled each other through the hard times. It's a way of life out there and it extends to home. Today, I sent up an S.O.S. By the code, these guys coming tonight have to answer. And they will, believe me."

"And I thought I had friends," Nick laughed, "My buddy Freddie and my cousin John are meeting us there, too. Both good guys. How 'bout Norman? He coming with us?"

"No," Sig said slowly, "Norman's staying home." _At least he better be_.

Nick nodded his head, fully comprehending Sig's decision. _I wouldn't let my little brother go down there, regardless of how old he is. It would be too much of a distraction trying to focus on what's going on and worrying about keeping him safe at the same time. Funny, are all big brothers instilled with this need to protect the minute a younger sibling is born? Does it last the rest of our lives or will it ever get easier?_

Sig stroked his thumb against the frosty can, glancing at his feet, "Nick," he asked quietly, "Why are you doing this for me? I mean, I'm grateful, don't get me wrong. But…"

Nick placed his can on the coffee table, sitting forward and leaning his elbows on his knees, "Sig, didn't you wonder at all how Elliot and I knew each other?"

The oldest Hansen shrugged, "It ain't any of my business."

"Look, I ain't proud of this but when I was younger, I was a pretty stupid kid. I did a lot of things I wished I hadn't and hung out with people that, at the time, seemed cool and exciting. Elliot was one of those guys. Sure, I was young but I knew better. I got involved in drugs, stealing and other reckless shit that caused the cops to show up on my parent's front door step more than I care to admit. I'm lucky they didn't kick me out," Nick was able to laugh now at the memories, thinking about the countless times his father came close to throwing him out of the house, "I don't know what changed in me. Maybe because I saw what it was doing to my parents. They fought constantly when I was growing up but the fighting got worse when I was out of control. I guess I told myself if I'd get my shit together, they would stop and we could be a normal family. It didn't matter, though, because my dad left anyway and, by that time, Matt needed me to be some kind of man in this house. So I kept on the straight and narrow and it turned out to a good thing. Otherwise, I'd be just another goon in Elliot's arsenal instead of getting ready to graduate from college Magna Cum Laude."

Sig listened intently to the unexpected revelations, his eyes never leaving Nick's face.

"Sorry, that's probably more that you needed or cared to know," Nick's cheeks flushed, "But I guess this is my chance to make up for some of the wrongs I did in my life. I realize this is gonna sound freaking corny as shit but I like being one of the good guys." Nick stood up quickly, glancing anxiously at the VCR clock over the TV, "I need to change. We should get out of here before my mom and Matt get back. I don't need the third degree from her about where we're going and, believe it or not, I still hate lying to my mom. Big, tough 22-year-old man that I am." With a smile, Nick turned and went upstairs, leaving Sig to reflect on the history of Nick's childhood.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick came downstairs wearing a t-shirt, jeans and a black leather jacket. Sig felt a little funny in his work khakis and button-down shirt but it was too late now to get changed into something more comfortable. As he cleaned up the beers, Sig asked to use the phone. He dialed his house three times, each time getting a busy signal. When they couldn't wait any longer, Nick and Sig left the house. _I tried to call, Norman. Don't you freaking accuse me of not trying._

"It's better if we take separate cars," Nick explained, "I told my girlfriend I'd come back over to her house and she'll pitch a hissy fit if I don't."

"That's fine," Sig answered, feeling guilty about taking Nick away from his plans for the evening.

The Pontiac Trans Am and Cadillac Eldorado pulled out of the driveway and into the night, both drivers deep in thought and playing out all the possible scenarios of just how badly things could go tonight.

As the cars turned down one end of the street, Matt and his mother turned onto the other end of the street and headed for an empty house.

* * *

Norman had been on the kitchen phone with Amanda for over an hour, talking about their undying love and how much they missed one another. She was touched that he tried to make amends with her father on her behalf but Norman's explanations and apologies fell on deaf ears. Amanda's dad was about as hard core and strict as they came and she broke the rules. End of story.

"Marines don't take excuses," she explained quietly, hoping her parents didn't notice she was on the phone for so long.

Norman rolled his eyes, "He's not a marine anymore."

"Once Corps…always Corps," she answered, trying to laugh and relieve some of Norman's guilt, "It was my choice to stay Friday night. I didn't know we'd both fall asleep. I'm only grounded for two weeks so you must have made at least a little bit of an impression." _No need to tell my boyfriend my parents still know how to swing that damn wooden spoon. Now that thing makes an impression. How embarrassing! Christ, I'm seventeen years old. Of course that doesn't make a difference to my Daddy. 'You still live under my roof, young lady', he always says. God, I can't wait to go to college_.

"So he's calmed down a little?" Norman asked hopefully.

"I wish," Amanda answered, "He might have if our house hadn't gotten egged last night. He was so pissed off when we woke up this morning. Initially, he thought it was you because he didn't listen to what you had to say yesterday. But I explained you would never do something like that."

Norman felt his chest get tight, like a vice grip was squeezing the air out of his lungs, "What?"

"Must have been some kids in the neighborhood. You know how they get bored in the summer, nothing to do and all," Amanda brushed off the incident, "Good thing it rained this morning. The rain washed away most of the egg on the windows but Sally and I spent the morning picking up broken shells. I'd like to drop the shells off on those kids' front lawns. Let them see how much of a pain in the ass picking up broken egg shells can be. I cut my finger…"

As Amanda rattled on, Norman stopped listening. _Coincidence? Get real. Those fuckers followed me over there. They saw what house I was at. And they came back and vandalized Amanda's home. Now, they know where she lives. FUCK THIS SHIT! I'm not staying here while Sig goes down there to play Yahtzee with those assholes. _

"Baby," Norman interrupted while Amanda was explaining that she had to redo her nails, "I gotta go. Edgar's calling for me."

"OK, baby. Tell him I'm thinking of him. That poor kid, I just love him so…"

The last thing Norman needed to hear was how much Amanda adored his little brother, "OK, Love you."

"Love you, too," Amanda didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong before hearing a click on the other line. _That's was odd. It was like his ass suddenly caught on fire and he had to go sit in cold water to put it out. I hope everything is alright_.

* * *

Norman searched around for the phone number he wrote down two nights ago. Smashing kitchen drawers one at a time, he remembered he wrote the number on the pad by the phone.

He dialed the vaguely familiar phone number, pacing back and forth in the kitchen and getting the long phone cord tied in multiple knots. _Shit, Sig, pick up_.

"Hello," a motherly type voice answered on the fourth ring.

"Ma'am," Norman swallowed his growing fury, "This is Norman Hansen. We spoke Friday when I was looking for my brothers. I'm sorry to bother you but…is Sig there?" _Same freaking question as before_.

"No, Norman," Matt's mother answered, "Did he go out with Nick again because neither one of them are home. It's just Matt and I here."

_FUCK!_ "Ma'am, I hate to ask but," Norman hesitated briefly, trying to come up with something, "I have to run to A&P before they close and I don't want to take Edgar with me and I can't leave him home alone. He was just in an accident on his bike the other night and…"

"Sure, you can bring him over here for a while. I'm sure Matt would like the company. He gets so lonely when Nick's gone all the time. The market closes at eight on Sundays so you better hurry."

_That doesn't give me much time. Shit_. "I may have to stop at my work, too. Some last minute inventory. I hope you don't mind. I know it's a lot to ask."

"Not as all. Edgar's a nice young man."

"I'll bring him right over," Norman said quickly, "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it. It's my pleasure."

Hanging up the phone, Norman ran through the house and took the stairs three at a time. He plowed into Edgar's room.

Breathlessly, he stated, "Turn off the TV. I'm taking you over to Matt's house for a while."

Edgar looked from his video game, "Why?" He had spent the day beating PitFall, PitFall II: The Lost Caverns and Space Invaders. He was currently in a heated game of Tetris when Norman burst into the room.

"I…" _I hate lying to my brother_. "…want to see Amanda. Her parents went out to the movies and they'll be gone for a few hours. This is my only chance to see her for a while since she's grounded for breaking curfew." Norman rooted around in Edgar's closet, looking for his little brother's white Nike sneakers.

"But you told me Sig said we had to stay home because he didn't want my bandages getting wet in the rain," Edgar stated, wondering why Norman seemed so agitated.

"Well," Norman turned around, sneakers in his hand, "It ain't raining anymore. Come on, turn it off."

When Edgar just sat there motionless, controller locked in his fingertips, Norman sighed disgustedly and turned the game off for him. For Edgar, hours of finding homes for unusually shaped boxes ended with no avail. He whimpered at the loss of his new pastime and, without the constant distraction, finally noticed the pain in his hands.

Norman knelt down and began slipping on Edgar's shoes, tying the laces in double knots and trying to find his breath.

"I don't know, Norman," Edgar watched his brother fix the hem of his sweatpants, "Sig said to stay home all day. I know what that means. It means all day AND all night. I don't think he's gonna be OK with this." He finally put the controller down, his hands starting to ache badly.

_You just said a mouthful, little brother. Sig is gonna be pretty far from OK with this._ The early morning warning of no 'List' option floated across Norman's brain. He gave it less than a second's worth of consideration. "I'll deal with Sig later," was the ominous reply. _Or more like he'll deal with me. But he's freaking crazy if he thinks I'm gonna sit here and let some guys egg my girlfriend's house, follow me home and most importantly treat my little brother like a punching bag. I've had enough_.

"You're gonna get in trouble," Edgar said sadly, trying to make eye contact with his brother.

"It's my trouble, Edgar," Norman lifted him off the bed under his arm and steadied him on the ground, "Do your hands hurt? Do you want something before we leave?" A gnaw of guilt plagued Norman's conscience. _I hate pushing him off to another a house but I won't leave him here alone and I'M NOT STAYING_.

"No," Edgar lied, reasoning that if Norman was this desperate to see his girlfriend, he wasn't going to make matters worse by making him feel guilty about it. He had ruined their last interlude in the powder room. "Do you have protection?"

Norman leaned back, his eyes wide, "Protection?"

"Yeah," Edgar called as he left the room, "It's the second important thing, remember?"

Laughing, Norman followed his brother downstairs. _If you consider the Louisville Slugger under the front seat of the truck protection, then yes, I'm protected_.

* * *

Sig pulled in behind Nick and left the car running. The abandoned gas station was a mile off the main road and right before heading down the ominous dirt drive to the Shack. The orange and blue Gulf sign hung from a single, rusty hinge and made an eerie screeching sound in the post-storm wind. A few gas pumps sat as a lonely testament to the road once being used by factory workers trudging off to another day's mind-numbing labor. The attendant's hut had been reduced to a pile of stone and glass, beaten down over time by countless Northwesters.

The fluorescent lights of the city could be seen from a distance, seemingly so close but miles away. Only the headlights of multiple cars and trucks assembled on the cracked and uneven asphalt provided the small band of men protection from the darkness.

As the storm blew off shore, the remnants of the low brushed against Sig's hair and he had to pull his jean jacket tight to fight the strange chill. _It's summer. Why am I so cold?_

Sig recognized his friends in the glow of the headlights. He approached them gladly as Nick greeted his cousin.

"John," Sig reached out to shake his friend's hand.

Jonathan Hillstrand and his brothers came from a different way of doing things. The handsome dark-haired man pushed away the outstretched hand and caught Sig in a giant bear hug, "Sig, my man! Miss you, buddy! You missed a kick ass time in Mexico."

Sig shouldn't have been surprised by the hug. The Hillstrands were the most affectionate, touchy-feely guys he knew, always telling their brothers 'I love you, bro' and hugging their friends. Still, he blanched at little at the bromantic assault. "I wish I could have been there."

"John almost ended up in a Mexican jail when he got caught naked on the beach in the middle of the day with two senoritas just a little under age," his younger brother Andy didn't even give Sig a chance to get put down before hugging him in the same fashion as his brother.

"I thought it was one of those nudist beaches," Jonathan defended himself, "And, believe me, those girls didn't look like any seventeen year olds I know." He made a motion to his chest, indicating the ample size of the girls' bosoms and laughing like Snidely Whiplash. His dark mustache completed the effect.

"We had to do some fast talking to the Policia to get him out of that one," Phil Harris, Jonathan's best friend spoke up. The large, tattoo covered man with the long brown hair looked like a Bee Gee member on steroids. He was sitting on the hood of his cherry red Corvette convertible and smoking a cigarette.

"Phil," Sig said fondly, walking over and willingly giving his old friend a brief hug added with the manly slaps on the back, "Miss ya, you lousy SOB. How's your dad?"

"Fishing…same as yours," Phil laughed, "The man's never happy unless he's on the water, even when he's lost for eleven days straight. I hear the season ain't going so well."

"I heard the same," Sig reluctantly admitted, knowing it was taboo to talk to the 'competition' about the season but Phil broke the 'code' first and, Sig had to admit, it was good to hear others were having the same trouble as his dad.

"Well, the sun's gotta shine on a dog's ass once in a while," Phil smiled, his ice blue eyes laughing, "Our dads will hit the jackpot eventually."

"Maybe he needs a good luck charm, like a dancing hula girl in the wheelhouse," Keith Colburn piped up in his annoying voice, "You need all the luck you can get out there."

"Shut up, Keith," Jonathan muttered under his breath, lighting a cigarette and letting it dangle in his front teeth, "You think you know everything."

"Try living with him," Keith's younger and timid brother, Monty, spoke up.

Before a fist fight could break out between the two rivals, Nick approached the group and Sig made introductions. Once all the formalities were out of the way, Nick easily took charge of the situation.

"I'm sure Sig's explained why we're here," Nick looked around at the assembled bunch. _Not bad. Some big guys who aren't afraid of a fight. They make an impressive group_. "We're not looking for a fight…"

Jonathan moaned softly, unable to hide his disappointment. Andy slapped him on the back and smiled, "We can always go to the bar later."

Appeased, Jonathan smiled and nodded towards Nick, a non-verbal gesture of agreement.

Nick continued, "…just a little reminder to Mr. Neese and his friends that Sig and his family are off limits."

"So is beating up little kids," Phil growled, still feeling the hostility he experienced this morning when Sig shared the story of his brother's abuse.

The group of men stayed silent, the impact of Phil's statement hitting home for each one of them.

"I know these guys," Nick broke the silence, "So just let me do the talking. They're gonna get nasty, trying to feel us out and provoke us to see how far we'll go. Give 'em nothing, not a flinch or show of emotion, no matter what they say. We'll make our point just by being there and showing them we're not afraid."

"I ain't afraid of shit, boss," Freddie spoke up from the back.

The guys laughed but Freddie crossed his arms over his chest, meaning what he said.

"OK?" Nick asked everyone, looking around.

"Wait," Sig said when the guys started to get back into their cars, "I want to thank you all for what you're…"

"Shut up and get in your car, Sig" Jonathan called back, walking away from him.

Sig was left by himself as he watched the best group of guys he ever known, willing to put their asses on the line for him, get into their cars and head for the Shack. He lit a cigarette and thought to himself, h_ow did I get so lucky?_

* * *

Norman dropped Edgar off at Matt's house. Before they got out of the truck, Norman turned to Edgar and said, "Listen, I kinda told Mrs. Mavar that you had an accident on your bike." He pointed to Edgar's bruised face and gauze-wrapped hands.

"So you lied," Edgar said sheepishly.

"Yes," Norman grumbled, "You wanna explain to the woman how you got banged up?"

"Not really," Edgar admitted, "But Sig don't like lying."

_Jesus, always with Sig! Why'd my older brother have to be so effective this summer? His influence over Edgar is astounding. Stop complaining, it's the best thing that ever happened to this kid. I wish I could set the same example_. "I know," Norman softened his voice, "I'm not asking you to lie. Just don't call me out on mine. Shoot, Edgar, I know this isn't right but…"

"I get it, Norman," Edgar said, "Mrs. Mavar would think less of me if she knew how I got beat up. She'd probably never let Matt and me hang out ever again."

_Shit, now I made him feel guilty_. "Just don't say anything. What happened to you is between us…you, me and Sig…and it's a family matter. Some things outsiders don't need to know."

Edgar waited for Norman to come around and open his door. He slipped out gingerly and was a little surprised at the hug he got before he walked away.

With care, Norman embraced his little brother and gave him a tender squeeze, "I'll be right back."

"I know," Edgar hugged him back the best he could, using his forearms and leaving his hands dangling around Norman's back. His older brother smelled like stale Stetson cologne and grease. First the first time, Edgar took notice that Norman hadn't showered or gotten dressed up for his date. He was still wearing his old jeans with the oil stains permanently embedded in the fabric and a super-tight fitting blue t-shirt. _I guess he's in a hurry. He probably won't be wearing the clothes for long anyway._

Before releasing the hold, Norman shyly whispered, "I love you."

Edgar didn't have time to respond because Norman detached himself and walked around the back of the truck, getting in on the other side. He waited for Edgar to ring the front door bell, Matt answering and letting him in, and then he backed out of the driveway and sped off to the Shack.

* * *

The ride was uneventful. When Norman got to the outward place, he noticed the large amount of cars in the parking lot. Driving around, he parked the truck next to his brother's Trans Am, shut off the engine and got out. _Sig's here. I recognize some of these cars, too. Nick's Eldorado, figured the guy have a Caddy, and Phil Harris's Corvette, hated when he'd drive that thing to school_. He reached under the seat of the truck and found his baseball bat.

On his way up the hill, he stopped by a new 1984 black Mustang with tinted windows and the rear spoiler that initially caught his eye in the hardware store parking lot last night. _A GT Turbo too. Mores the pity._ He walked over to the car and was sorely tempted to take his bat to the front headlights and windshield. He hesitated, putting his hand over his dream car's shining black hood. _Oh, honey, he doesn't deserve you_. _I would treat you so good if you were mine._

Leaving the car with a sigh of longing, Norman made his way to the front door of the bar. Slipping the bat behind his back, he pushed open the swinging door and was greeted to a packed house of partially drunken patrons and low music coming from the old fashion jukebox in the corner of the room. The cigarette smoke in the bar was so thick and heavy, Norman almost turned around and went home.

"You know exactly what you did," said a familiar voice with the slightest twinge of a Norwegian accent came loudly from the back of the bar.

Norman proceeded on, slipping past the tables of people and trying not to gag on the smoke.

A bizarre mix of future fishermen and low-life thugs had gathered at the tables underneath the stairs to the loft overlooking the bar. The future fishermen were standing and the thugs were lounging on the wooden chairs, their alcoholic beverages resting in pretty glasses on the round wooden tables. Adam and Joe were sitting with Elliot, several other large men at the neighboring tables and surrounded by a group of young fishermen with tale to tell.

To make the strange scene even more bizarre, a lone man wearing a black suit and tie stood off the edge of the odd gathering. He stuck out like a sore thumb and silently observing the heated conversation with masked interest, his long black cigarette hanging between his fingers. Norman noticed the man in black immediately. _This guy is right out of a mobster movie. Just when I thought things couldn't get weirder_.

Scanning the group for his brother, Norman saw Sig standing at the front of the crowd next to Nick and Jonathan. They had their backs to Norman and had yet to notice his presence. As he crept towards the stairs, Norman slipped the bat on top of the open staircase's third step and tried to blend in with the group. His clandestine movements didn't escape the yellow-green cat eyes glaring at him from the table.

"And I see you brought Norman," Elliot sneered, leaning to the side and staring over towards the staircase.

Sig closed his eyes, too afraid to turn around and find his little brother standing behind him. He lost all focus. _I'm gonna kill him. I'm going to take him home and freaking KILL him._

Nick put a hand on Sig's arm, steadying him for a brief second. _Hold it together, Sig. Show no weakness_.

Feeling Sig relax, Nick let go and gave Andy a look with meaning. The gesture sent Andy worming his way towards the back of the group and next to Norman's side.

Norman was insulted. _I don't need a freaking babysitter_. He wiggled his way closer to the front of the group, ending up exactly where Nick didn't want him.

Then Nick turned his and everyone else's attention back to the conversation. "You've been harassing the Hansens for no good reason, just because you can't find anything better to do with your time. Maybe your employer should know just how much free time you got on your hands, Elliot. Maybe he could find something better for you to do other than run this shithole into the ground." Nick's eyes strayed over to the man in black. _You're obviously here on someone else's behalf and I bet I know who that someone else is. This ruse may just work after all_.

"NO GOOD REASON?" Elliot laughed, "These guys…" he waved his hand at Sig and Norman, "…accused me and my friends of beating up a kid. How could anyone think I…" he gestured to himself in grand fashion, "…would ever lay a hand on a kid? What an insult! We got hauled into the station and peppered with disgusting questions about bruises and welts like some drunken daddy who takes his anger out on his brats. I take offense to that." The thug seemed slightly impressed with the group standing in front of him but the man standing off to the side was what he was worried about the most.

All of Elliot's hand gestures were highlighted by a gold SHS class ring with a blue stone sitting on his right middle finger. Norman didn't need to get close enough to see it, but he would have bet his truck that the ring had the year 1984 engraved on the side and the inscription _We couldn't be more proud, All Our Love, Mom and Dad_ in tiny letters in the smooth gold underneath. _My brother's ring…On that mother fucker's finger…I'm gonna lose it. The audacity of this asshole. Don't you know our mother gave that ring to him? No, you wouldn't and, if you did, you wouldn't care that it was one of the proudest moments of his life_.

"I take offense," Sig said slowly, "to someone blackmailing my thirteen-year-old brother into racing on an illegal and dangerous track so that you can make money for your fucking poker games. I take great offense to you and your fucking friends coming to my house and tormenting my kid brother, scaring him half to death and threatening to kill me and my younger brother. I take fucking offense to you BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF MY BROTHER TILL THERE'S NO SKIN LEFT ON HIS HANDS…"

Again, Nick put a hand on Sig's elbow, effectively shutting him up. Jonathan moved in closer, eyes strictly glued on the big Samoan at the adjoining table. The large dark man had reached under the table and pulled out a knife from the recesses of his back pocket. He placed the knife on the table, keeping his hand on the hilt.

For the first time, the passive man in black showed the slightest facial expression. If Nick hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed it. The man in the thousand dollar suit raised one eyebrow.

Sig's loud voice was starting to draw looks from the crowd of patrons and Elliot stroked his greasy ponytail once, a nervous habit.

Norman pushed his way next to Nick, ready for Sig to throw the first punch but was sorely disappointed.

"I just want you to leave my family alone," Sig sighed, his blue eyes desperately trying to find a single scrap of humanity in the man sitting in front of him.

Elliot seemed to ponder his choices. _I hate you and your family. I hate everything you stand for. But I don't need this shit right now._ Before he had a chance to speak, the man in black coughed gently.

"Mr. Neese," Mr. Moltisanti spoke quietly, "A word." He tipped his slick head toward the back office door.

Like a child about to be scolded, Elliot stood up and followed the man to the back room. He glanced at his fellow thugs and shook his head, indicating nothing of interest should happen in his absence.

With Elliot gone, the mood in the room changed from tense to relaxed and the Hillstrands took the opportunity to grab a beer. Adam and Joe stood up, circling around the table and pretending to check on the patrons.

Sig turned to Norman, who was standing to his right. "Where's Edgar?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Matt's" Norman looked at his brother, "He has your ring, Sig. Let's get it back."

"Shut up," Sig glared at him, "I don't care about the ring. All I care about is getting out of here without you or anyone getting hurt."

"Stop worrying," Norman waved off the concern.

Sig whispered in his brother's ear, "I'm not the one who should be worried."

The brief, heated conversation distracted the brothers and neither one of them noticed Joe and Adam coming up from the other side of them. Joe approached Norman and laughed, "How's the hardware store?"

"Leave him alone," Nick uttered from Sig's left side.

Joe leaned over to Norman's other ear, "Your little brother's pretty tough."

Norman stared blankly at the guy his own age.

"He passed out several times," Joe whispered, "You want to know how we revived him? We burnt him with cigarettes."

Sig was close enough to hear it but not nearly quick enough to stop it. Norman clocked Joe square in the mouth with his right fist, knocking out two of his front teeth and causing blood to ooze from the teenager's mouth. Joe fell backwards and was only saved from further punches by his older brother, Adam, grabbing Norman from behind.

The war broke out. Both Hillstrands were happy to join in, taking on the big Samoan together. Phil was hit from behind with a wooden chair. Unfazed, he turned around and kicked his assailant in the chest with his motorcycle boots. Nick dodged a haymaker and came up with one of his own, connecting with the black man who'd thrown the wild punch.

As Norman was being restrained, another one of Elliot's goon's approached him quickly and went to punch him in the stomach.

Sig blocked his brother's path, taking the punch full in the belly. _I've gone through too much to have my brother's insides damaged again_. He doubled over in pain, groaning as he made his way to the floor. Norman stomped on Adam's foot, elbowing him in the face and crashing into the man's left eye. When he released Norman's arms, the middle Hansen threw a right hook at the man who punched his brother before he had a chance to kick Sig while he was down.

As tables were broken and patrons ran screaming into the warehouse, a single gunshot was fired. The blinding sound froze everyone in place. An innocent Jack Daniels bottle poured out its amber liquid from the shelf behind the bar, like it was bleeding to death. The only sound was the dripping pitter-patter on the linoleum floor.

Elliot stood at the back door, smoking .22 in his hand. Norman had taken the break as an opportunity to help Sig up off the floor. Both brothers were standing in front of Elliot when he said, "This is done. Your family and you can go to hell for all I care. I want nothing to do with you. Neither do any of my guys, if they know what's good for 'em." The leader of the group looked around at the damage to the bar. "Get out," he whispered to Sig and Norman, "I don't want to see you or your friends in my place ever again."

Mr. Moltisanti came from out of the backroom and stood behind Elliot. The man looked directly at Sig and nodded ever so slightly. Sig nodded back.

"Come on," Nick had blood trickling from his nose, "We got what we came for."

Norman wanted to argue. _But we didn't get the ring_.

"My teeth," Joe whined from the floor, breaking the silence.

"Shut up," Adam yelled at him.

Jonathan and Andy ushered the group out the door, blood splattered on Andy's jacket because he'd been stabbed in the arm.

Nick had to pry Sig from Norman's arms and gather the brothers so they could walk out. Phil and Freddie brought up the rear so no one would follow them outside. Both spit on the floor before they left.

* * *

Once outside, Sig managed to get air back into his lungs. Nick kept pushing him along, Norman following helplessly.

"The guys," Sig moaned.

"You can thank them later," Nick said in a rush, "I think Andy and Jonathan are headed to the hospital. Phil and the rest are going to celebrate. I'm going to my girlfriend's house and you two are going home."

When they got to Sig's car, Nick leaned him up against the Trans and took a minute to collect his thoughts. "Well, that was fun," he laughed.

"Did it work?" Sig asked, standing up straight and wincing from the pain in his abdomen.

"Yes," Nick nodded reassuringly, "He's done with you and your family. I'll bet his 'boss' will have some unkind words for him. I think that's what the guy in the suit was reminding him about when they went to the office. The guys he works for don't generally approve of getting kids involved in illegal activity. They like child abuse even less. This is officially over."

"Things went south, didn't they?" Sig asked Nick, then glared at Norman. Norman shuffled his feet, looking at the dirt under his shoes.

"We just made more of an impression than I wanted to but it turned out alright," Nick checked on Sig one more time, "You OK, buddy?"

"Yeah," Sig breathed in deep, "Go…have fun with your girl. Nothing like a fight to get the blood boiling." _Like mine is right now…for an altogether different reason_.

"Alright, I'll give you a call tomorrow," Nick turned to Norman, "You got one hell of a right cross, my friend."

Norman faked a smile and nodded. He moved out of the way so that Nick could get into his car. As the Eldorado pulled off into the night, Norman glanced over at his brother. Sig refused to make eye contact, staring off at the Shack and praying to God he'd never have to see the place for the rest of his remaining life.

"GO HOME," was the simple command as Sig headed to his car.

"Edgar?" Norman asked, wondering if Sig would ever look at him again.

Sig approached his brother in two steps and, with lightning fast speed, grabbed Norman by the ear and dragged him to his truck. Norman was whimpering by the time they got to the driver's side door.

"I'll get him later," Sig opened the door with his free hand and practically tossed Norman into the front seat. "STRAIGHT HOME!" he slammed the door and walked away.

Norman watched his older brother angrily get into his sports car and tear off into the darkness. _Should I run? Where too? I could live under a bridge. I'd make a good hobo_. His earlier statement from this morning of _**You don't scare me** _taunted him and he knew he couldn't run. _Know when to run…and when to knot._

~tbc


	43. Knowin' What To Throw Away

_God, my fucking pig-headed little brother, trying to be the tough guy and showing me he can run with the big boys. Why the fuck didn't he stay home like I told him to?_

Taking a corner going about seventy MPH, Sig counted his lucky stars the Trans handled as well as it did because he almost lost control of the car and ended up wrapped around a tree. The scare startled him and he slowed the car down, controlling his breathing and managing to get his righteous anger in check. _OK, getting myself into an accident because I'm driving angry isn't going to help anyone. _

The near-death experience forced Sig to appreciate he was still alive and remember a time when he didn't want to be.

********Sig's Flashback********

October 1983

That Saturday evening, the family, sans dad, had returned home from Edgar's great motorbike triumph. Mom had taken Edgar and several of his friends to see the new movie Star Wars: Return of the Jedi as part of the celebration on his first elite level win.

Norman had made plans with Amanda and left the house right after mom and Edgar.

That left the oldest brother home alone, feeling absolutely lost and despondent. A week had past and Sara wasn't coming back. She had made it clear he was no longer wanted in her life and he had decided a life without her wasn't worth living.

Taking the notebook from under his bed, Sig sat in his room and read over pages and pages of letters he had written to her, begging her to come back and telling her how much he loved her. As the pages went on, more dark thoughts started coming out and he had written them down over the past week without thinking. Reading them now only sunk him further into the depths of despair.

Turning to a clean page, he began writing a note to his family, trying to explain his actions and praying they could find a way to forgive him. He didn't know what he was planning but he knew he wanted to die and he couldn't leave them without saying goodbye. Whether it was a true suicide note or just a cathartic outlet for the moment, Sig never got the chance to find out.

So engrossed in what he was doing, Sig never heard Norman come back home. Norman came up the steps, headed to his room with his top dresser drawer his destination. In his anticipation to see his girl, he forgot to grab a condom on his way out. Remembering it halfway to Amanda's, he returned home to retrieve the second most important thing.

The middle brother caught sight of his older brother sitting on his bed, writing furiously and looking strange. He crept up behind the door and began reading over Sig's shoulder. The words on the page would haunt him forever.

Violently pushing his oldest brother off the bed and onto the floor, Norman picked up the notebook on the bed and turned to Sig with a look of shock and heartbreak.

"YOU WANT TO FUCKING KILL YOURSELF?" a sixteen-year-old brother screamed at him, holding the notebook in his hand like it was laced with poison.

Norman's face was so pained, Sig began shaking. "I LOVE HER," the oldest brother pleaded as he knelt on the floor, "You don't understand. I can't live my life without her in it."

"YES YOU CAN! WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF US? You think she's the only one that loved you? What about mom? What about Edgar? What about me? It's supposed to ME and YOU…I thought we were a team. We're gonna graduate and run the boat together and help dad and someday have wives and kids and all that shit. WHAT ABOUT THAT? DID YOU FORGET THAT?" Norman cried, flinging the notebook across the room as hard as he could and watching the pages scatter over the carpet, "YOU DON'T SEEM TO UNDERSTAND THAT I CAN'T IMAGINE LIVING THE REST OF MY LIFE WITHOUT YOU IN IT!"

********Flashback Interrupted********

Sig slapped the steering wheel hard with both hands and pulled over, kicking up dust from the road and making his own cloud of smoke. He lit a cigarette and pushed away the bad memory. _It got worse after that night. I was so depressed. I can't believe I was so lost. A lot has changed since then and I'm glad someone loved me enough to help me ride out that storm_.

His stomach hurt from the punch and he rubbed his gut, trying to ease some of the pain. _I don't regret taking that punch. It was worth it. But Norman shouldn't have been there at all. Damn it, I am so fucking pissed off right now and I need to get my temper under control so this doesn't end in another fist fight. I've had enough fighting for one evening, not that I even got a punch off because I was too worried about Norman._

_Why didn't Norman listen to me? Why didn't he trust me to handle this on my own? Is it a lack of respect or a lack of trust? Or it is Norman just being a hot head and letting his anger get the best of him, just like I am right now. I can't let that happen – setting an example is one of the promises, right? So I better get my shit together because I'm gonna need it. _

_Now, I have to punish another little brother for putting his life in danger. How am I gonna handle that?_ Sig closed his eyes, being honest with himself and facing the truth. _I'm gonna have to give Norman a licking. I CANNOT believe this is happening. It's like some alternate universe where the world is upside down and nothing makes sense anymore. _

The 'man speech' came back to Sig and he wanted to punch the steering wheel for ever committing himself to the notion. _I told him he needed to obey me this summer, follow my rules and be treated equally with Edgar. If this was Edgar, I would punish him with the paddle, my heart breaking the whole time. So…Norman has to face the same consequence…same punishment, same broken heart, different brother. I warned him. He didn't listen. He knew the outcome. _

_So why is this so difficult? Because he's my best friend and partner in crime. I don't want to change that. I like things just the way they are. But, as I found out with Edgar, it's not about me this summer. That's a luxury enjoyed only by children and I'm not a kid anymore._

Taking the car out of park, Sig tossed his cigarette out the window and drove home with a quiet sense of calm and resignation, still beating Norman home in the process.

* * *

Norman pulled into the driveway, parking his truck next to Sig's Trans Am. _Figures he'd beat me home._ Turning off the engine, the middle brother sat in his quiet vehicle and stared out at the darkened house. He had someone else's blood on his swollen knuckles and a minor kink in his elbow.

The blood on his hand made Norman think of Edgar. Glancing over to the empty passenger's seat, he couldn't help but smile at the memory of his little brother, stinking like pot and liquor and hesitating to go inside the house after running away. _Was that Friday night really just only a little over two weeks ago? So much has gone down between then and now, it feels like Edgar's true bike accident happened three summers ago. He put himself in terrible danger, risking his life to save me._

Norman sighed, rubbing his hands along the steering wheel and acknowledging he put himself in the exact same situation two weeks later, minus the pot and alcohol. _I disobeyed my brother the minute I left the house. I lied like a rug to Edgar and Matt's mom so I could get what I wanted, a chance for revenge. I put myself and everyone else in danger when I lost my temper and punched that guy in the face, but damn, it felt good! So…was it all worth it?_

The age-old question resonated in Norman's mind. _Sig got hurt protecting me. He's probably livid about it. No doubt he's inside the house, pacing, and ready to wring my neck the second I walk through the door. Bet he's asking himself what HE did to make me NOT trust him. I can hear it now: 'Why didn't you trust me to handle this situation? Don't you respect me enough to listen when I tell you something? Don't you understand I'm just trying to protect you?' Oh Jesus H., this is gonna get ugly. _

_I'll defend my actions because I had every right to protect my family. Oh, God, didn't Edgar say something to that effect in his essay? Did I make the same ill-advised mistakes with the best of intentions? Most likely, and my older, wiser brother is about to point that fact out to me. _

_So how's he gonna handle this? Really, I need to ask myself that? He told me explicitly that I was following the same rules this summer as Edgar and he'd treat us equally. My little brother was 'man enough' to face the consequences of his decisions. So, I guess all I can do is 'man-up' and face mine. _

_But, boy, this is difficult. I don't want things between Sig and me to change. I like how things are just fine. Is this going to ruin our relationship? Did it ruin Sig and Edgar's relationship? No, somehow, it brought them closer together. Yet, Sig's always whining about how the discipline end of things seems to have altered their relationship but I don't see it. All I see is Edgar's undying admiration and Sig's unending patience. Doubt I'll get a piece of either. _

_Sig's gonna punish me. There's no way around it this time. I was warned. I chose to disobey. I knew the outcome. So why is this so hard? Because it's Sig this time and not dad. Should I be humiliated to be spanked my big brother? Probably…but isn't that part of the point…to somehow be put back in my place for my own safety? Isn't that how punishment works? Is there any other reason or benefit?_

_So…was it worth it? Guess there's only one way to find out._

* * *

Sig was lying in the darkness, stretched out on the sofa and trying to work out the dull pain in his stomach when he heard the truck pull into the driveway and turn off.

He had already called Mrs. Mavar and asked if Edgar could stay there a little longer. She assured him that would be fine and asked if he would like to speak to Edgar before he hung up. He declined. Talking to Edgar would come later. Right now, he had another little brother he needed to talk to.

_Same punishment…same method…my way. He'll just have to accept it. If not, we'll talk until he does. I've got all night. Bring on the Q&A._

* * *

Norman shook off the nerves. He literally shook like a dog fresh from the bath. Then he opened the back door and entered his own home. The kitchen was dark, save the single light over the stove. The house still smelled like fried chicken, dinner a long forgotten memory.

Norman left the main kitchen light off and walked around the table, into the living room. It was pitch dark and he could barely see. "Sig," Norman called, facing the upstairs and reaching for the light switch of the small table lamp by the sofa.

"Right here."

Norman almost jumped out of his skin at the noise from behind him. He didn't see his brother in the darkness and the unexpected voice startled him. He flipped on the light and, looking down, he observed his older brother laying on the couch, feet on the armrest. The older brother had shed his shoes and button-down shirt, now only wearing a ribbed A-frame sleeveless t-shirt and his work pants. The muscles in his arms flexed as his eyes adjusted to the light.

Sig seemed like he was in pain, his right hand placed over his stomach and his left behind his head.

"Hey," Norman said softly. _I've been punched in the stomach enough times to know stretching out is the best way to relieve the pressure. OK, now I feel REALLY guilty. Why'd he have to take that punch for me? Because I couldn't afford the blow to my belly and he knew it. Damn overprotective big brother._

"Hey," was the equally soft reply, "Sit down, will ya?" Sig tipped his head over to the lounge chair facing the front window.

Norman shuffled over to the chair and sat down, his knees pressed tightly together and his hands interlaced on his lap. His blue eyes staring intently at the empty fireplace and he waited quietly for the argument to begin. Only Sig didn't seem to want to start, resting with his eyes closed and trying to delay the inevitable.

_I can't take this silence_. "Stomach hurt bad?" Norman asked as he studied the ashes from their last winter fire.

"It's going away," Sig said evenly.

"My ear hurts," Norman said weakly. _Wow, that was a pathetic attempt at sympathy._

_Way to bust my balls but you deserved it_. Sig sighed, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. "Sorry about that. Old habit from when you used to piss me off as kids."

"So…are you still pissed off?" Norman asked causally.

"Somewhat."

"Oh."

"Norman," Sig rolled onto his side, pillow and arm folded under his head, and looked straight at his younger brother, "I have a few questions."

Norman stopped studying the bricks that made up the fireplace mantel. He turned his head and leaned back in the chair. "Why does that not surprise me," he stated simply, no sarcasm intended.

"I'll go with the obvious one first," Sig shifted his feet, placing the left over the right, "Why didn't you listen to me and STAY HOME?" The pain in the older brother's voice was as clear as glass and it hurt Norman just to hear it. It was the first of many hurts he'd have to endure.

Reaffirming his 'take it like a man' stance, he squeezed his hands together and gave his brother full eye contact. "I wanted to, Sig, but Amanda called and told me her house got egged last night." _Wow, saying it out loud makes it sound so insignificant now. _

"And you assumed it was Elliot and his guys," Sig stated, "It most likely was because they followed you there. But, it could have been anybody, Norman. We'll never know. You didn't tell her anything, did you?"

"No, she thinks it was kids in the neighborhood. But it just really pissed me off," Norman explained, "The thought of them near her drove me crazy."

"I can understand that," Sig empathized with his brother, "I know what it's like to be in love and how it can make you do stupid things." _Really stupid things_. "But I told you I was handling the situation. Did you honestly think I couldn't?" Sig ran his hand through his thick blond waves, nervous about the upcoming answer.

Unconsciously, Norman mimicked his brother's motion, running a hand over his short-cropped brown hair. "It wasn't like that. Don't start thinking it was. This has nothing to do with not trusting you. You know I do. Sig, I trust you more than anyone else in this world. Come on, you know more about me than anybody, even Amanda. The shit we've gone through…" Norman left the thought hang in the air. Years and years of sneaking out together, getting in trouble and sharing secrets were too long to account for.

"I trust you, too, Norman," Sig admitted freely, a little shocked his younger brother was feeling expansive and willing to have an honest and open conversation without his usual humor or other techniques of avoidance, "And I trusted you to stay home and do the right thing." _If you have an opening, take it_.

Norman's eye twitched and he looked away, taking the brunt of the statement full force. _Ouch_. Wounded, he tried to fight back. "I didn't plan on this happening. I just got really angry."

"About what? Amanda?"

"Yes…" Norman bit his nail, making it seem like he was working off a piece of bothersome skin, "…and Edgar…and you."

"Me?"

"A little," Norman felt like such a child, "I hate being left out of things."

Sig sighed, "I wasn't leaving you out to hurt you. I was leaving you out to protect you. Shit, Norman, don't you get it?" He sat up quickly, putting his feet on the floor, slipping on his shoes, and moving closer to his brother by sitting on the end of the sofa, "Even if Edgar hadn't been home, even if he'd already planned to go to Matt's house, I still wouldn't have let you come with me."

Norman's blue eyes flashed with anger and he looked hard at his brother.

Sig ignored the look, "You're only seventeen. If something happened to you down there, I'd be responsible for it. Same as Edgar, the cops are going to look to me as to why and how I let this happen. If you were the one that got stabbed instead of Andy, (Sig visibly shuttered at the thought, knocking on the wooden end table three times) I would have taken you to the hospital for stitches and people would have questioned me…ME…about everything…like I'm some inadequate guardian. That coupled with Edgar's incident and you both would have been at risk for being sent to some temporary foster home until dad got home. Did you think about that AT ALL?" Sig took a breath, "Because I did. Maybe I'm being overly cautious or just freaking paranoid but when you get put in this position, you tend to worry about these kinds of things." _There's me, worrying about 'parent stuff' when I should be coming back from Mexico and hoping on a plane to Alaska so I can fish with my dad. Oh, who am I kidding? Mom died and we didn't have the money for Mexico or Alaska or Disney World or to pay the fucking hospital bill that showed up yesterday. Fuck, I can't even pay for my fucking wisdom teeth to be removed._

Norman didn't answer, only looked away and wished he could sink into the fabric of the chair.

Sig carried on with his worries, "If you got arrested, how would that look on your college applications? You have a decent future in front of you. The last thing you need is some juvenile charge for assault. Did you at least think of that?"

When Norman remained silent, Sig answered for him. "I guess not. OK, let's get to Edgar."

"Please," Norman's hand shook, "Please…stop. I feel bad enough already."

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I'm trying to get you to think about shit before you act, which you normally do except when you're really angry." _Just like Edgar and the cigarettes_. Sig said softly, "How'd you get Edgar out of the house?"

"I told him I was going to see Amanda," Norman whispered, "I know I lied but I couldn't tell him where I was really going. I lied to Matt's mom too…to explain his injuries"

"I sort of asked you to do the same thing about my own whereabouts this evening when we were on the phone this morning. I don't know how I feel about it, these little white lies we're telling each other." Sig rubbed at his stomach, "All I know is parents don't tell their kids everything. I'm not saying Edgar is my child. He's not, but I'm the only parent he has right now and there are things I'm not going to share with him until I'm ready and I think he can handle it."

"He tried to talk me out of leaving," Norman smiled weakly, "He knew you'd be upset if I disobeyed and left the house. He kept saying 'Sig doesn't like this' and things like that. He sounded so innocent and trusting. Damn Sig, he really thinks the world of you."

"He thinks the world of you, too, Norm. But I'm glad one out of the two of you had their head on straight tonight," Sig laughed, breaking the mounting tension. _Did I really make that much of an impact on my youngest brother? The thought makes all the hard times we've been through seem worth it. All the times I was honest about how I felt made the difference, maybe._ "I didn't want you to get hurt," Sig whispered, his voice suddenly breaking, "That was the most important reason I had for telling you to stay home. Not that I was scared for your future or my ass getting in trouble with CYS or Edgar being out of the house for a few hours. And definitely not because I think you can't handle yourself in a fight. But that I couldn't…" _Be honest_. _Why am I really upset?_ "…see…another one of my brothers…hurting."

Sig stood up and started pacing behind the sofa, willing himself not to back away from the truth.

Norman went back to admiring the fireplace. "But you got hurt," _I hate when he starts pacing. It means he's really upset._ "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It was my choice," Sig answered, meaning laced in the words, "Just like it was your choice to stand in front of a speeding motorbike to try and save your brother's life."

"Just like it was your choice to give up your class ring," plagued by the image of Elliot wearing his brother's prized ring, Norman felt the anger rising again, "Didn't it bother you, seeing that asshole wearing your ring? I wanted to rip it right off his hand, finger and all. Doesn't it upset you that the bastard has the nerve to…"

"What is it with you and Edgar and that damn ring?" Sig dodged the question, not wanting to be reminded of it. _I saw it on his finger. I wanted to die. But I gave it up. It's no longer mine. I have my brother…both of them…and that's all that matters. Still, it hurt like a red hot poker to my heart to see it on the hand of the man who abused my brother. I'm sure the hurt will go away in time. _

_Come on, you're lying to yourself, Sig_. Norman glared at his brother, "That ring means…"

"…Enough about the ring," Sig paced his way back to the sofa, "Back to you. You did hear when I said there would be no 'List' for this?" Sig felt like he was going to be sick. _Maybe it's the punch to the gut. Unlikely_.

"I heard you," Norman felt the nerves building. _Here it comes_.

"We need to talk about it…it being your punishment," the older brother took a deep inhale, letting the air back out slowly, "It's not easy to talk about it. Dad was on to something when he just kept quiet when he strapped us. I still think he was wrong in how he went about things but I understand now how tough it is to sit down and have the these conversations."

"Can I tell you a story?" Norman asked suddenly. _I'm not ready for 'these' conversations right now._

"Somehow, a story right now sounds perfect," Sig smiled when Norman looked confused, "Go ahead, what's the story?"

Norman began his tale, "When I was about twelve and Edgar was like seven or eight, I found him hiding in my closet. He was bawling his eyes out."

"No doubt something I did," Sig laughed, his perfect white teeth showing.

Norman chuckled, "No, surprisingly, not this time. Anyway, I asked him why he was hiding in my closet. He told me there were monsters in his closet, mom's closet had too much stuff on the floor and your room was off limits."

"Smart kid," Sig added.

"Not too smart that day," Norman waved his hand toward the fireplace, "That was the day mom caught him trying to make a fire by himself."

"Oh shit, I remember that," Sig said, "Mom was beside herself. I'd never seen her so angry."

"She was furious…furious enough to introduce our little brother's name and crime to the 'List'…IN INK. By then, Edgar knew what that meant. He was getting his first licking. No doubts about it. The 'crime' wouldn't be erased before dad got home. Mom must have been really mad to finally put her baby on the 'List.' He told me he was going to run away before dad got home," Norman smiled at the memory, "He even had his little Batman backpack full of toy soldiers and Matchbox cars ready to go."

"Poor kid," Sig sympathized with youngest brother, "I know exactly how he felt."

"So did I," Norman explained, "For the first time, I can remember being gentle with him without mom telling me I had to. I sat on the closet floor and put my arm around him. I told him dad wouldn't be home for another three weeks and he needed to try and forget about it until then. Then…I gave him the worse advice I could have possibly offered."

Sig cocked an eyebrow.

Norman looked ashamed but he continued, "I told him it wouldn't be that bad. A couple of licks with the strap and it would be over. I recommended he just count backwards from ten and it would be over by the time he got to one. And…I told him not to cry."

Now Sig wanted to cry. "Oh Norm…"

"I know," Norman confessed, abashed at the memory, "It was how I handled the strap. It's how I always thought dad wanted us to handle it. 'Like men' so to speak. The Old Man is so fucking…" he looked for the right word, "…stoic…devoid of emotion, except anger and annoyance. I always wanted to impress him. Come on, Sig. Don't look at me like that. So did you."

The accusation hit its mark, "I cried but I never let him see it," Sig admitted, "I don't know why we took it like we did because it never seemed to impress him either way. Maybe we felt bad making him feel bad."

"I don't know how I felt," Norman pondered the thought, "I just know I didn't want to be ignored and I felt like if I made the right impression…be like him somehow…it would make him pay more attention to me." He laughed nervously, "Guess that was pretty dumb because it never worked. I just didn't seem to understand that it would never work but I just kept trying, like an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Sig said passionately, "You're one of the smartest people I know. I had to work for all my grades. School just came natural to you. And it's not just school. You can see the answers to things that others will never see, myself included. You can fix just about anything by looking past the parts and seeing the whole picture. That's a gift, Norman. I don't think you realize not everyone has that talent. Edgar has it, too, he just hasn't developed it yet."

Norman felt his cheeks turning red, embarrassed at the strangely timed praise. _Why'd you never tell me this before?_ "But I couldn't figure out dad. I could never find a way to his…heart. So," _Damn, this conversation IS hard_, "I gave Edgar the same advice I told myself to help him somehow get through his first spanking. That's how he survived it…trying to be like me. And that's probably why he fights so hard not to cry. It's a learned behavior that I taught him. And I reinforced it all the time, like by being such an ass about not taking the pain medication when I really needed it."

Sig reflected on his experiences this summer, "Guys aren't OK with crying and talking about how they feel. It's just the reality of the world. I don't think the guys I work with would be OK with stuff like that, for example. None of dad's fishing buddies would be either. So how do you teach a kid to survive in the real world? Exactly like you told Edgar in the closet that day. There's no shame in what you said. It's how we were raised."

"But I'm sick of it," Norman exclaimed, "I'm OK with being like that outside of this house but, God damn it, I want to be me…here…in this house…with you and Edgar."

"No one is saying you can't be."

"I feel like dad wants us to be that way all the time."

"Dad wants us to be like him," Sig explained the best he could, "He wants us to have the same work ethic and morals he has."

"And I'm OK with those things," Norman ran a hand over his chest, "But not the 'hard as nails, nothing can bother me' way of being. I don't want to be exactly like him. Is that wrong?"

Sig sighed and tried to find the right words, "Maybe a part of growing up…the part about being an adult…is looking back at your parents and finding the qualities they taught you that you want to keep. The rest, like the things you don't agree with, you eventually have to throw away to become your own person. It doesn't mean you don't respect your parents and everything they tried to teach you. It's just that we have to make our own choices in life as to who you're gonna be and how you're gonna live."

"Um…did this advice come on the back of your high school diploma?" Norman quipped with a smile.

Sig laughed, "I wish…No, and I've given it a lot of thought this summer because I had too. I'll tell you a little story you already know. After I spanked Edgar for the first time, I felt extremely guilty. Worse than I've ever felt. Not just that I hurt him but that maybe I was dishonoring dad in how I went about it. But I just couldn't be like that. I need to be my own person and make my own decisions, some of which dad is NOT going to like and I'll have to deal with that. But, I decided I'm holding on to dad's sense of commitment and mom's affection and compassion for those less fortunate. Other things too, you know, like dad's love for just one woman and stuff like that. But some things, like going to church…"

Norman tipped his chin downwards and smiled. They hadn't been to church since the funeral. _If mom knew that, she'd be on her knees praying to the Lord for forgiveness for her wayward sons_.

Sig smiled back, a little guilty, "…EVERY Sunday, I'm throwing away. The same goes for dad's lack of emotion and gruffness. That's how I see it. You take it how you want."

Sitting back, Norman stared blankly at his brother, "You know, you have a gift, too?" When Sig looked surprised, Norman lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. _Why is this shit so hard for me to say?_ "You have a way of explaining things that people understand, making them see things in a different way. I don't know. Maybe I do think with too much logic and Edgar thinks with all his heart but you balance both things together and make it work. That's a gift."

It was Sig's turn to blush red from the unexpected compliment. "No, just something I learned from mom. She always had the right words to say followed up with her chocolate chip cookies or homemade peach pie. She was the one that knew how to explain everything. You do the same thing, like how you explained to Edgar lying for Matt when he took that pill was wrong. So maybe we both got her talent or we just learned from the best."

_I don't want to talk about mom right now because if she is looking down from heaven, she'd be so freaking pissed at me right now._ "So," Norman sighed, "The point of my story about Edgar is to ask you to please not think less of me however this goes down. I don't know how I'm gonna react to you punishing me but I'm not hiding anything anymore. I don't plan on crying and I don't want you crying either. But if it happens, so what." _How's that for logic._

Sig was astounded. "I would never think less of you. It's just not possible. I don't think less of Edgar, either. I never spanked Edgar until he cried but I did encourage him to, if he wanted. Same goes for you."

"So," Norman glanced at the floor, "You're gonna give me a lickin'."

"I could just ground you…" Sig wanted to get out of this so badly, he would have said almost anything but he had a feeling Norman already had his mind set on what needed to be done.

"You're the one who has to decide," Norman looked carefully at his brother, "But whatever happens, I want Edgar to know about it." _Come on, Sig. I'm 'man'ing up here. I need you to do the same._

"Seriously?" Sig asked.

"Very," Norman answered, "As embarrassing as it might be, Edgar needs to know that I got punished. He doesn't need to know what for exactly but he needs to know there were consequences for my decisions. This summer, I'm in the same boat he is and this is a good reminder he's not alone. He knew I was making a mistake tonight and I'm OK with that because maybe he'll realize he's not the only one that makes mistakes. It might even help him feel better about himself. He also needs to know that you handled my mistake the same as his mistakes because that's only fair. If you go easy on me, like grounding me or making me do extra chores or something, he'll wonder why he was treated differently. But I'll accept whatever you decide without my usual complaining. That's all I'm gonna say." _Man, that was hard to get out_.

Sig whispered, "I don't want to do this."

"I know you don't and I hope you really understand how sorry I am for putting you in this position," Norman whispered back, "But you will do it because it's too late to go back now."

"Norman," Sig said the name softly, "I don't want this to change things between us."

"Me neither."

"Can we go back to being normal after this is over?" Sig clarified, "After this summer is over?"

"I'm fine with that." _But does that mean you stop caring what happens to me, if you care at all?_

Sig buried his head in his hands, muttering, "How do you want to do this?"

Norman anticipated that question. "First, I need you to tell me what THIS is?"

Sig's shoulders heaved once. Finding the courage to get through this was going to require a lot of digging deep. "It was one mistake in my book. Although you lied to Edgar, I'll take responsibility for that because I asked you not to tell him where I was going. I don't care if you lied to Matt's mom because Edgar's injures are none of her business. But the one mistake you did make was an egregious one. It's not just…" he was rambling out of nervousness and breaking out the big vocab words so Norman put a stop to it.

"Sig," he interrupted, "Just say it." _You don't have to justify yourself to me._

Looking up, Sig said firmly, "Paddle. No jeans, just boxers." He held his breath, waiting on Norman's reaction.

Norman was not the least bit surprised. It was what he expected. "How many licks?"

"Sixteen."

Norman almost laughed. _Why the weird numbers, I'll never understand_. _Edgar got fourteen for pretty much the same thing and I expected to get more because I'm older and should have known better. Guess I'm lucky I didn't tell my brother to 'fuck off' and breaking grounding on top of it, otherwise I'd be getting swatted with someone's big hand, too._ "Can I select the location?"

"Yes."

"Kitchen table."

Sig's head shot up, a look of horror crossed his face. "No, please. It doesn't have to be there."

"It's what I'm comfortable with," Norman stated flatly, unwilling to change his mind, "You gave me the option." _This is what I'm picking. Different guy, different instrument…I want something that's familiar. At least let me have that comfort._

"Are you sure?" Sig was almost begging. _Don't make me stand in the same place as my father._

"Yes, I'm sure," Norman nodded, "Sig, I wouldn't say it if I wasn't. And, for the record, a paddling is the appropriate level of consequence for what I did so don't go fucking doubting yourself like you always do with Edgar. You always ask for my opinion on these things so now you got it. _Can we just get this over with?_ Now, do you want me to go get the paddle?" He made a motion to stand up.

Sig reached over and placed a hand on Norman's shoulder, stopping him. "I'll get it. I'm not cruel like that. I'd never make you get the damn thing and bring it to me. Dad never even did that and I'm not starting another new tradition." _I need a freaking minute here anyway. _

As Sig slipped around the edge of the sofa and up the stairs, Norman was left sitting in the living, wondering how anyone could ever think his brother was cruel. The two of them just had one of the most brutally honest conversations they ever had together. Norman got to see a different side of his brother (_the unending patience of my brother_) and he got the opportunity to show a hidden side of himself (_I admire you just as much as Edgar, more so, in fact._). In a way, it was like they got to know each other on a new level.

_Maybe this is what happened between Sig and Edgar. Too bad I had to get Sig hurt and let him down in the process_.

With a deep sense of guilt sitting square in his stomach, Norman got up and went into the kitchen. He turned on the light and sat down on the kitchen chair, crossing his arms in front of him on the table and resting his chin on his forearm.

Sig tried to focus on just getting past this terrible night. He walked into his parent's bedroom, turned on the light and, taking a minute to refocus, sat down on the soft bed. _I can't believe I'm doing this. Punishing Norman may be harder for me than punishing Edgar. Not that I don't love Edgar. I do very much. But Norman's been dealing with dad for so long, I don't know how he's gonna take this. He was right when he made his little speech about crying vs. not crying. I'm afraid of what might come out, what's been building for seventeen years could be kinda scary to see. But…I'm man enough to handle it. I made it through Edgar's meltdowns. I can make through Norman's, although I doubt he'll want to sit on my lap_ _afterwards. But can I really do this?_

As Sig was pondering the next ten minutes of his life, his eye caught sight of a small brown parcel sitting with his father's mail. _I don't remember that coming_. _Edgar must have gotten it on Friday when he was home by himself._

He stood up and walked over to the desk, inspecting the little box. Reading the return label, Sig's heart skipped a beat. "Jostens" was the company the box came from and he recognized the name so often displayed in his high school hallway when it came time to order yearbooks, diplomas…and class rings.

_Norman's getting his class ring after all_.

Knowing his brother would recognize the company name, Sig opened the left desk drawer and placed the box in the back of the cabinet. He would remind his father of the package when he returned home.

_I'm not saying a word about this. Let Norman be surprised when dad gives it to him. Maybe things will be better between the two of them and Norman won't feel ignored anymore._

Sig was elated for his brother and not the least bit resentful. _At least one of us will have a ring_. He only wondered if mom had order the ring before she died or, God forbid, dad actually remembered to get one for his middle son. Both thoughts were equally endearing.

_But Norman might not have been around to get his class ring or finish his senior year of high school_. _That knife on the table easily could have ended his life if Jon and Andy hadn't intervened_. With that thought stuck firmly in his brain, Sig opened up the closet and retrieved the paddle.

* * *

Norman heard his brother come down the steps. He waited until Sig got into the kitchen before pushing the chair back to get up. A hand on his back stopped him.

"You have blood on your hand," Sig said with concern.

Looking at his hand as he had forgotten the blood was even there, Norman mumbled, "It isn't my blood."

"Come here," Sig walked his brother over to the kitchen sink. Norman felt like he was three years old as he let his brother lead him around the kitchen. The feeling only increased as he allowed Sig to wash his hand under the warm water, using dish soap and scrubbing the dried, crusted blood off the swollen skin.

"I can do this myself, you know?" Norman leaned in and whispered with a wry smile.

Sig ignored him, focused on getting the blood off without hurting his brother. Wisely, Norman sensed that Sig had now slipped into 'captain' mode and it was best to back off and let whatever happens just happen.

When the oldest brother led Norman back to the kitchen chair, hand wrapped in a dishtowel, Norman went from feeling embarrassed to slightly amused. _What's he gonna do next?_

The answer came in the form of a bag of frozen peas being taken out of the freezer and placed on the swollen knuckles of his right hand. Sig wrapped the towel around his brother's hand, holding the makeshift ice pack in place and grabbing a chair with his free hand. He sat down next to Norman without a word.

It was something mom would have done had she been there. Norman felt self-conscious, his brother so close to him and holding the ice on his hand. But he missed this kind of tender affection and attention they had gotten so often as little boys. Mom cleaned out and kissed enough 'boo-boos' over the years to qualify her as an expert. As the ice relieved the swelling and numbed the pain, Norman glanced over to Sig's face. _He looks so worried_.

"So…" Norman broke the silence, "…where's the paddle?"

"My back pocket."

"Why hide it?"

"Don't know," Sig shrugged, "I hate looking at it, I guess."

"May I see it," Norman asked, "I never really got to look at it."

Sig used his left hand and reached behind his shirt. He took out the paddle and placed it on the table, holding onto Norman's injured hand partially for his own benefit. He slid the paddle over and left it on the table in front of his brother.

Norman studied the piece of old, smooth wood, remembering clearly Sig's story of how he learned about the paddle's existence. "Mom, huh?"

"Yup."

"Want to tell the story again?"

"Nope."

"Edgar says it doesn't hurt as much as the strap." Norman glanced at the wooden paddle and admired the handy work someone lovingly put into it. The handle was beautifully carved and he wished he had that much talent. _One of our ancestors was a talented craftsman. That's kinda neat to know._

"That's true," Sig shifted in the chair, applying pressure with the ice. "But it still hurts," he whispered, "I wish you didn't have to find out. Shit, I wish I'd never picked it up. I really back myself into a corner with this damn thing."

A loud crash came from outside and both boys jumped from the noise. "What the hell was that?" Norman exclaimed.

"Stay here," Sig balanced the ice on Norman's hand before getting up. He would have added a smartass comment about listening this time but he was too afraid. He approached the back door and turned on the overhead porch light. Glancing out the window, he saw nothing except the wind chimes lying in a heap at the top of the porch steps. "Looks like Edgar's wind chimes fell down from the porch roof. The storm's still blowing hard out to sea."

"The string probably got weak from all the rain we've had," Norman sounded relieved, "I'll have to find a chain to hang them up with this time."

Sig opened the door and looked both ways before going outside. Nothing was around so he proceeded outside and picked up the wooden chimes. The cord had indeed broken, frayed towards the bottom where most of the weight was distributed. The string hadn't been cut cleanly, which relieved the older brother immensely. At the same time, he had an eerie sense that someone caused the wind chimes to break and fall at just the right moment. _Mom? Do you have to keep pushing me like this? Sorry for saying I back myself into a corner. I didn't mean you backed me into a corner. Well, you did put me in the corner a lot…a lot more than Norman and Edgar…but I always deserved it. So what are you trying to tell me now because you called me out here for something?_

Laughing at his thoughts, Sig came back in the house and shut the door behind him.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Sig said quickly, "Just something I was thinking about." He placed the chimes on the counter by the door and returned to his seat. He adjusted the makeshift ice pack covered in the cloth and continued applying gentle pressure to his brother's swelling hand.

A quiet calm took over the kitchen and Norman felt strangely uncomfortable with the mood, "How much longer do I need to leave the ice on?"

"A few more minutes."

"It's getting late, Sig," Norman said, attempting not to sound as nervous as he was, "Edgar's still at Matt's and he's probably getting worried."

Sig glanced over at the clock on the stove, "It's only a quarter after eight. He's fine, likely having a good time and glad to be out of the house for a while. Don't worry about Edgar right now, OK? I'm not rushing through this just to get it over with. This is MY way, remember?"

"I always wondered what the hell took you so long when you punished Edgar," Norman gave a little smile, "Now I know."

The two of them sat side by side for a long while, listening to the clock tick on the wall and the refrigerator turn on and off. Sig continued to hold his brother's hand, till frozen peas started to turn soft and defrost. A few minutes turned into ten as they sat in silence.

"Any more questions?" Sig looked up over his eyelashes, knowing he couldn't put it off any longer.

Norman looked at his brother's hand covering his own, "You still pissed off?" _It doesn't seem like it because you're taking care of me like mom would have._

"Edgar ALWAYS asks me that," Sig rubbed at his nose, "Was I really that much of a tyrant growing up?"

Norman didn't dignify the question with a verbal answer. He simply glared at his brother with the 'are you kidding me?' look.

"No, I'm not mad anymore," Sig blanched under the heavy gaze, "Same as Edgar…I would never allow myself to do this out of anger or frustration. And just so we're clear, I'm not doing this just to satisfy your sense of fair play between you and your little brother. No one's backing me into a corner…not you or Edgar or even myself. Not even the precedent set by dad. _Alright mom, I get it._ At first, I thought I was but I'm only lying to myself if that's the real reason. The truth is I'm doing this because I care about you and I want you to know how serious I am about that…how crazy does that sound right about now?"

_Not at all because that's the reason I really wanted to hear all along_. With a glance at the end of the table he'd soon be leaning over, Norman looked back and slid the paddle over towards his brother. Sig was reminded of another similar respectful and accepting gesture made a fortnight ago.

Removing Sig's hand and the ice pack from his own, Norman stood up and slid the chair back, making a screeching sound on the floor. Replacing the frozen peas in the freezer, he went and tossed the towel in the laundry room hamper.

When he returned to the kitchen, Sig was sitting on the edge of the table, his legs dangling down to the floor but feet still reaching the linoleum. Norman was taken aback that the place he was about to resume was partially taken by his big brother.

Sig smiled encouragingly and hooked his right index finger towards Norman, asking him to come closer. Feeling more like the three year old again, Norman lowered his head so his brother wouldn't see the embarrassment on his face and approached him without hesitation. _Here comes the humiliation. Just deal with it_.

The height difference between the two of them was eradicated and they were both at eye level for once, just what Sig had intended. When Norman was within arm's reach, Sig gently hooked his hand around his arm and moved Norman directly next to his left knee. Still, Norman was unable to look at him.

Sig nudged him with his leg. "Hey," he said so softly it sounded like a whisper, "It's me."

"I know," Norman felt the tears coming already. _You have got to be joking. This cannot be happening so soon._ He kept looking at the wooden table, designs he'd studied countless time before, and was still unable to look at his brother.

"Can you look at me?" Sig asked quietly.

Letting out a nervous exhale, Norman let his shoulders slump and managed to look up.

Sig could see the embarrassment written all over his brother's face. _How does Norman handle embarrassing situations? With a little humor._ Sig picked up the paddle off the table and twirled it between his right and left index fingers, leaving it parallel to the floor. "You want to sign it when we're finished? Could be good practice for college if you join a fraternity."

Norman closed his eyes and laughed, some of the tension leaving his body. "No," he said, collecting himself, "I have enough real brothers in my life. And I don't think mom would be OK if we graffiti another one of her family heirlooms. We broke or took markers to most of her good stuff as kids."

"Just a thought,' Sig said as he placed the paddle down on his right thigh, "OK, here's how this part works. I have one last question."

_Oh God, no more questions_. "I thought we covered all that."

"Sort of," Sig raised an eyebrow, "I need to know you understand why I'm doing this. Do you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Norman seemed confused about this part of the process. He cocked his head to the side, looking a little like his younger brother. "Because I didn't listen to you."

"It's more than that," Sig explained gently, "I'm not some hard-nosed crab boat captain that demands total obedience from my crew…well, not yet, anyway. There have been a few times both you and Edgar didn't listen to me and did your own thing and I never felt the need to punish either of you for it. Shit, if I did, Edgar would have been spanked for coming to the hospital with us that night or you, for that matter, not taking your medication. Little shit like that doesn't bother me. This is beyond just not listening to me."

"Because I put Edgar at risk by going down there. I never thought of it like that until you…"

"DUDE," Sig said loudly, picking up the paddle with his right hand, "You put yourself at risk." He pointed dramatically over to the 'List' on the refrigerator with the paddle. "Did you forget THAT conversation? Do I need to remind you what I said THAT time?"

Norman's eyes shifted over to the 'List' and his brother's angry words about losing someone else in his family came back to haunt him. "I remember," he muttered, eyes falling back to the floor.

_Damn it,_ Sig thought, _stop looking at the floor and look at me_. _Apparently, Norman is utterly humiliated at this point and dragging it out is making it worse. This was the last thing I wanted. I just wanted him to feel…comfortable. But punishment isn't a comfortable thing and there's no way I can make this better. I've got no more tricks up my sleeve...well, maybe one._

"Ready?" Sig asked gently.

Norman looked up as if to say 'we're done with this part already?' He took a step back and was surprised when Sig shifted his butt to the right corner and let his left thigh and knee rest over the edge of the table, his right leg firmly on the floor for support.

Before Norman had a chance to ask, Sig explained, "I don't want your stomach hitting the edge of the table so you're going over my leg. There's no discussion about it."

"Ah, Sig," Norman whined, "But you said before…"

"NO DISCUSSION," Sig crossed his arms over his chest and proceeded to have a discussion about it, "It's purely for your protection. Jesus, Norman, you just had surgery on your stomach eight days ago. I don't want you getting hurt is all. Don't make an issue out of it or you can rethink your choice of location…there's always over the bed or arm of the sofa." He softened his voice, "Come on, we've made it this far without an argument, which must be a God damn record. Just let me do this…please." _I'm killing two birds with one stone on this position. One, I don't have to stand in the same spot my father always did because that would kill me. Two, I can keep Norman a little closer to me so he doesn't accidently hurt himself._

For Norman, somehow the situation just became more humiliating. _Now I know how Edgar feels about getting put over Sig's lap. Sig told me once that he did that to help Edgar feel safe and I guess this is same thing so I shouldn't take it personally but damn, it suddenly got very personal. Maybe that's the point...not that it's humiliating but that it's personal. I'm just not usually good with personal stuff and I just want this over with._

"Your way, right?" Norman looked up and nodded, "My location. I'm sticking with the kitchen table." Then he started unbuttoning his jeans, his hands giving away how nervous he felt as they shook trying to get the button undone.

Sig's eyes dropped into his lap and he turned away, still unable to watch this part of the process. He glanced at his right hand, holding the paddle, and thought about the ring in the box. He wished it was his place to give it to his brother but that was dad's and Sig had no other ring to offer after this was over. His brother would be sore and hurting and there was no sign of comfort to be left until the hurt was gone. It was officially the first time he truly longed for his own class ring back.

Noticing his brother was looking away, Norman wished he had the words to tell Sig how much the little gesture of privacy meant to him. _Hell, we've peed together and showered side by side at the gym but it means a lot that you would at least try to spare me the humiliation._ Jeans puddled around his knees, Norman held them up long enough to take two steps closer to the table and, without preamble, placed himself over his brother's left thigh. He let the jeans drop to the floor and secured himself with both arms fully extended on either end of the narrow part of the table, bracing his weight and holding himself up. He lowered his head, closed his eyes and waited.

A little surprised at how easily that went, Sig was left with a full view of his brother's dark blue boxers that covered a large buttocks and bare hairy legs. He wished Norman would just let him take his full weight and lay down across the table but that was asking for too much. _Let him retain some of his dignity if he thinks it's worth it_.

Norman waited for the first lick of the paddle, determined to let himself handle it however he wanted. So he gasped when the next thing happened. Sig placed his left hand on Norman's lower back, over his t-shirt and lightly rubbed the fabric, praying his younger brother didn't freak out at the loving gesture. _You're right, Norman…MY way. I'm not changing a thing._

Sig's hand on the small of his back was not the first touch Norman expected but it was the touch he always wanted at this moment. He said brokenly, "I always… wanted dad…to do that," before his arms gave out and went limp over his brother's leg, folding his arms in front of him. He buried his head in the nook of his arm and, despite the promise he made to himself, fought back the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

"Me too," Sig said gratefully, confirming his suspicions that Norman felt the same way, "It would have made a world of difference to me, like he knew I was here."

"Will you leave your hand there the whole time?" Norman didn't recognize the small voice coming out of his mouth. _Now I sound like a three year old!_

"The whole time," Sig gave a smile no one saw. _The whole way._ He fought off his own tears when he adjusted the paddle in his right hand. Norman's nervous, uneasy breathing was painful to feel through his left hand but not nearly as heartbreaking as the whimper he let escape when Sig swatted him hard with the paddle, aiming for crest of the boxer-covered buttocks propped over his thigh.

Leaving his left hand splayed out on Norman's back, Sig offered softly, "First one is always the worse and now it's out of the way."

Norman nodded into his elbow but Sig didn't catch the motion. The middle brother accepted the following licks quietly as he had trained himself over the years, some habits harder to break than others. Norman bit his lip, the swats landing across his bottom cheeks with sharp sting. _I've taken worse than this and never batted an eyelash. Edgar was right, this doesn't hurt worse than the strap but, damn, it stings. That warm hand resting on my back is about the only thing keeping me from freaking out. It means Sig knows I'm here. I'm not just a backside getting set on fire but a person who needs to be acknowledged, comforted and not ignored. _

Trying to clear his mind, images of Edgar being hauled off to a foster home and Sig crumpling to the floor, someone about to kick his teeth in, floated around in Norman's brain. These thoughts were a thousand times more painful than the paddle and Norman fought against both hurts, denying the pain and refusing to give in.

Sig was focused only on the paddling and being careful as always about where and how hard each swat fell. He was mindful of the edge of the paddle not catching his brother on the thigh and causing a bruise. He swatted the thick buttocks, landing the heart of the paddle over both cheeks and covering all areas. As cautious as he was, he didn't hold much back, wanting to make enough of an impression to Norman that he'd never have to do this awful thing again. _Make it count._

Each lick was hard, causing Norman to flinch or hitch his breath with each one and breaking Sig's heart with each reaction. Sig swatted with a steady rhythm, giving his brother enough time to recover after each but not so much that the process became torturously long.

By the tenth lick, Norman was close to crying, unable to stop the thoughts of hurting his brothers with his foolish actions. "I'm sorry," he whispered between the eleventh and twelfth lick and Sig's heart melted to his stomach. His brother was grasping the edge of the table, his swollen knuckles turning white and he was trembling over Sig's leg enough to shake the table.

Sig put the paddle down on the table. Placing both hands on his brother's back, he leaned over and whispered, "I know you are and I forgive all of it." Sig felt Norman stop breathing for a brief second, and then the first muffled sob filled the quiet kitchen.

Listening to his brother finally giving into the tears, not just for this but maybe for all the times he never cried with dad, Sig had to harden his heart. "But I can't let you put yourself in a dangerous situation where something dire could happen to you all because you're angry or feel left out. Don't ever believe I'd leave you behind because I don't want you with me. If I leave you behind, it's for a good God damn reason."

"I was jealous," Norman cried into the hollow of his arm, not caring a lick that he sounded babyish and insecure.

Again, Sig was astounded, "Of what?"

"Of Nick," Norman openly whimpered, turning his head and resting his cheek on his forearm.

_Well, that's a revelation I didn't see coming. Somewhat interesting to me what comes out of my brothers' mouths during this process_, "Jesus, Norman, why on Earth…"

"I don't know," Norman cried, looking up at his brother, "You respected him. I can tell you look up to him."

"I've had lots of friends over the years," Sig could not believe this all boiled down to who he was going to declare his BFF and share his chocolate milk with at lunch, "None of them ever took your place. God, Norman, really?"

"It's so stupid," Norman turned his head back and hid in the nook of his elbow again. He cried softly, his breath breaking in gasps.

Sig's initially reaction was to punch his brother in the back for being jealous of a guy he barely knows but the heartbreaking sounds of crying stopped him, making him realize just how insecure Norman was on this issue. _Must be one of those little brother things I don't know understand_. "Norm, I don't know what to say other than I love you. You're my blood, remember?"

"I love you, too," was the much muffled reply, so muffled, in fact, Sig had to figure it out by repeating the jumbled syllables silently.

Sig picked the paddle back up off the table and felt Norman flinch at the scraping sound it made against the wood. _I hate that he's afraid but I can't back down now_. "Five more," He spoke in a calming tone, keeping his left hand firmly on Norman's back for security, "Almost over. No matter what happened down there, you defended our brother and me and I'm proud of you,"

As the next three licks fell with a resounding thud against the tender flesh of his sit spots, the tough guy broke down and sobbed like a baby, shoulders heaving up and down and crying out loudly. His brother was proud of him when he deserved it the least and when it meant the most and it make the hard licks that much harder to take. They stung like mad, Sig putting something a little 'extra' on his swing like he was making a point.

"One last thing," Sig said firmly, "These last two licks represent something important so I'm making them ones you'll never forget."

Norman grabbed hold of the table edge tightly, the only thought going through his brain was that he didn't think he could take harder swats to a very sore backside. He panicked and, for the first time in his life, he pleaded for mercy. "PLEASE…" he whimpered, all pride lost, and turned his head to his brother. Tears were streaming down his face, a deep, red impression left on his forehead from leaning on his arm.

Sig looked down and saw the panic in his brother's face. "No, you forgot something. You forgot about two things. Two very important things. You want to know what they are?"

"Not really if it means you're gonna swat me harder than you already are," Norman blurted out through his tears.

Cracking up with laughter, Sig glanced at the ceiling and prayed his mom could still hear her middle son's well-timed and very honest answer. Then he leaned over and whispered in his brother's ear, "You forgot about ME and YOU. ME and YOU! We've been a team for seventeen years and nothing will ever change that, including you. So don't do stupid, fucking shit out of anger that can get you killed because I can't imagine living the rest of my life without you in it."

_I hate when you use my own words against me. Damn, this is gonna hurt_. Norman cried softly, burying his head again and preparing to take two extremely hard swats he'd never forget.

Of course, the last two licks were so gentle that Norman didn't even registered what happened until it was over. The last two licks applied, Norman got a crystal clear message that his reckless behavior would not be tolerated now nor in the future and that his brother had loved him enough to show him mercy that likely would not be extended a second time. If he ever felt ignored before, he knew now it was the biggest mistake he'd ever made.

"It's over," Sig said softly, unsure if Norman heard him.

With his backside almost numb and tingling with a deep burning sensation, Norman tried to get back into a standing position.

Sig's hand pressed down gently but firmly. "Just give it a minute." He left his hand on his brother's back and kneaded the t-shirt between his fingers. With his right hand, he placed the paddle on the chair beside him, getting it out of his hand as quickly as possible and out of sight. "I'm not going anywhere," he said with reassurance, still gently rubbing his brother's back and wondering how long Norman would allow the physical affection. He took the opportunity to wipe off the two tears he had swallowed back and only now decided to betray him.

Taking the shortest amount of time possible, Norman calmed himself down and refused to linger over the table. _So what happens at this point because I'm not sitting on my big brother's lap while he holds me, although I won't mind a hug right now…believe it or not._ "Can I get up now?"

"Sure but…please don't leave," Sig realized he was coming close to begging. _This is the part where I need the comfort and reassurance that we're still OK with each other so please don't run off the garage or to the basement without at least talking to me._

With a hard sniffle, Norman straightened up to a standing position and pulled up his jeans, wincing as the rough fabric made contact with his sore backside. Sig winced with him in sympathy. Zipper and button securely in place, Norman hiccupped and was still unable to look at Sig, wanting very much to take a page out of his father's book and just slink quietly away.

The older brother slid his numb leg off the table, the circulation cut off during the paddling because Norman had been leaning on him so hard. Sig had to sit on the table because he would have fallen over if he tried to stand. _Damn, how much does Norman weigh?_

As Sig sat on the edge of the table, he stared at the top of his brother's closely shaved head. _Still can't look at me? Not even Edgar has this much of a problem_. "Let's not have this conversation again, OK?"

Norman laughed once, a breaking chuckle that came out in a huff. Dad's favorite line at this moment took on a whole new meaning between them. He finally looked up at the intent blue eyes staring questioningly at him. "That really hurt," he smiled, tears still streaming down his face.

_I thought you weren't going to complain_. Sig hid a smile and took a big risk instead. He brushed off a tear on his brother's stubbly cheek, "You know better than anyone how much I hate doing it."

Norman nodded and surprised his brother by not pushing his hand off his face. Instead, he leaned into it and closed his eyes, like a cat that was getting their muzzle rubbed. Sig thought it was a usually sweet gesture for one so 'tough.'

"I am really sorry, Sig," Norman whispered, his eyes still closed, "for everything."

"It feels good to throw some things away, huh?" Sig said softly, wishing he would have had the opportunity to say those words to his father at least once in his lifetime. "Norman," he said softly, changing the tone in the room with one word.

The middle brother opened his eyes, the tears now gone. Sig's voice had changed so dramatically, Norman dreaded what was about to come out of his mouth, "Yeah?"

Sig cupped his brother's cheek, his hand already on his face. His blue eyes never wavered when he spoke, "I wanted to punch that guy, too, and I would have done the same fucking thing if you hadn't gotten there first. I'm glad you knocked his teeth out. I…was close enough…to hear what he said."

Choking on the words Joe had hissed, Norman blurted out, "They burned him." Hearing those three words again caused him to start trembling, new tears coming from a different kind of pain and hitting him in waves. This time, he wasn't the only one who started crying.

Norman buried his face in his hands and didn't resist when Sig pulled him over between his knees, hugging him hard against his chest as he wrapped his arms around Norman's broad shoulders. Norman sobbing was muffled by his hands but Sig cried openly, weeping into Norman's collarbone and wetting his blue shirt.

"I knew they bbb..burned him but…I'd didn't know www…why," Sig said brokenly into his brother's t-shirt, "I should have told…you about that but it was all too much at the time and…I hid the burns under a Band-Aid because I didn't want you to get uppp…upset when you sss…saw them." Sig rambled, unsure of what he was even saying, "I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

"I'm sorry it happened at all," Norman cried softly, "How'd his hands…" he couldn't finish the sentence.

"Not sure but…I know they used…a belt," Sig felt Norman tense in his arms and he continued quickly, holding on tightly, "He doesn't want to talk about it and I'm gonna respect that…to a point. He wouldn't even let me be with him when he talked to the cops but he has to talk to someone eventually. Please just don't push him right now."

"I won't" Norman muttered into his hands.

"We're back to being a security blanket for him without fully knowing why," Sig tried to explain, "We know more than before…a lot more…but there are things I think we still have to find out and only he can tell us."

"Will he ever be the same?"

Sig left the question unanswered because he didn't know. All he could do was hug his best friend and bawl his eyes out.

With the exception of Norman returning the hug and clinging to his older brother' white t-shirt, the two of them stayed like that for a long time, crying for their little brother and the torture he had yet to tell them about. Only the cigarette burns on his arms and the wounds on his hands were explained. The rest, like the welts on his back and the bruises on his face and legs, were left up to the imagination.

* * *

"I have to get Edgar," Sig finally said when the grandfather clock chimed nine times. He pulled away from Norman and wiped the tears off his face with hem of his ribbed t-shirt, "You absolutely sure you want him to know about this?"

"Yes," Norman felt very tired, the emotional experience finally catching up with him, "Maybe he'll learn from my mistakes and, if he's ever tempted to sneak out to see a girl, he'll think twice about it."

Both Norman and Sig looked blankly at each other. A second later, they both said, "Doubt it," at the exact same time.

"Same blood, right" Sig said when he stopped laughing.

"I still want him to know," Norman's laughter died down as well, "Sometimes, I think he feels like an only child…maybe it's the age difference between us. Maybe we should get him a dog."

"Jesus, not you, too?" Sig asked, exasperated. "Do you really think dad would let him keep a dog?"

"No." Norman answered sadly, realizing Sig was right. _Figured I try. I want a dog, too._

"I don't want him home by himself," Sig contemplated, "Just in case."

"Tomorrow, I'll take him with me to work. He'll like that," Norman leaned his upper back against the counter.

"OK," Sig said, thinking for a moment. "Maybe we should tell Edgar the truth about tonight."

"I thought we were going with the 'Amanda's house' story," Norman looked suddenly nervous, "Why do you want to tell him the truth now? It's over."

"Because," Sig grabbed a chair and turned it around, leaning his crossed arms on the rail, "I hate lying to him. I think we should be honest. At the time, I didn't want him worried about what might happen tonight but now it might give him peace of mind to know those guys are going to leave us alone. He's scared to death about the cops being involved now and he thinks I made the situation worse by telling the police. What he doesn't know is that the police were practically useless, course I'll leave that part out of the story."

"He'll think you took matters into your own hands…" Norman confronted his brother, "…which is what you did. You want to tell him THAT?"

"Shit, no," Sig wrung his hands nervously, "But I can't keep this from him, not if it means he'll spend the rest of the summer worried some guys are going to come to our house and hurt the people he loves."

"You're gonna have to do some fancy explaining," Norman seemed suddenly sad, "And he'll know I lied to him."

"So you'll have to do some fancy explaining yourself," Sig smiled, "Seriously, I'll feel better knowing he feels safe again and that's all that matters to me. He'll forgive you for lying to him. Edgar was never one to hold a grudge."

"Can we talk to him together?" Norman asked quietly, "It'll give me a chance to explain myself."

"Sure," Sig said, standing up and turning the chair around, placing it under the table, "Are you OK?"

"Never better," Norman quipped before he left the kitchen, grabbing the paddle and balancing it on his middle finger like a baseball bat. He actually meant what he said. He never felt better after dad spanked him, never got a chance to say how he really felt about whatever it was that caused him to get punished. This time, despite the very sore backside, he felt vastly relieved and like a knot had been untied from his insides. "Mom's closet?" he asked as he balanced the paddle without letting it fall.

"Top shelf," Sig almost added '_and don't go rooting through dad's desk while you're up there_' but he caught himself before he gave away such an obvious challenge. _If I say nothing, he'll never have a reason to go in the desk_. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here…this time."

* * *

Edgar knew when his oldest brother's Trans Am pulled into the driveway that Norman had gotten in trouble.

Sig rang the doorbell, collected his kid brother and thanked Mrs. Mavar for allowing Edgar to come over. When Edgar came down the stairs, Sig sucked in his breath. It was still painfully difficult to see his brother's face bruised as it was and he kept forgetting how badly it looked.

"Please make sure Edgar is more careful on his bike," Mrs. Mavar scolded Sig as he walked out the door.

"Yes, ma'am," Sig took the scolding with grace, putting his hand on Edgar's back as he guided him out the door, "I'll do that."

The two brothers drove around the block before either one of them spoke.

"Norman got in trouble?" was the first thing Edgar asked, staring at his injured hands and picking at the white gaze until little strings came apart from the fabric.

"Yes," Sig said gently, putting his hand on Edgar's neck and stroking the back of his hair, "And we are both going to talk to you about it when we get home."

"Am I in trouble?" Edgar asked.

"Definitely not," Sig explained quickly, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and maneuvering the car the few blocks back to the house. The brothers remained quiet for most of the drive until Sig pulled onto their street.

"Are you OK?" Edgar asked suddenly, "You've been crying." _Norman got a licking. Why else would Sig have been crying? I feel terrible for both my brothers._

"Is it that obvious?" Sig hoped Matt and his mother didn't notice.

"You always get those red circles around the rim of your eyes when you cry," the youngest brother explained.

"It's been a rough night," Sig rolled his eyes at the understatement, "But, yes, I'm OK."

"I tried to stop him," Edgar offered.

"Trying to stop Norman is like trying to stop a freight train," Sig grinned, "I'm not blaming you at all. You did the best you could." He pulled into the driveway and parked the car. "I'll get the door."

Edgar felt like a girl on her first date. _I could probably manage the door with my fingertips but my brothers are going to treat me like a baby until my hands are better. They hurt really badly right now, probably from playing too much Atari, and I'm not looking forward to getting the bandage changed again_.

Door open, Edgar slid out of the bucket seat and Sig shut the door behind him. They went into the house and were greeted by three cups of tea sitting on the kitchen table and one lone Dixie cup. Norman had changed into his satin Nike workout pants and a clean white t-shirt and was standing by the stove. Sig had yet to change out of his work clothes.

"Norman," Edgar said slowly and then hesitated, unsure of what transpired between his brothers in his absence. Approaching his older brother slowly, Edgar made his way across the kitchen, towards the stove, stopping in front of Norman. "Are you…" Edgar didn't know how to ask or if he even should. Instead, he slipped his arms around his big brother's middle and rested his chin on Norman's shoulder.

Norman took the hug gratefully, stroking his little brother's hair, "I'm fine. Come on, nothing's broken. I still have all my fingers and toes. And look, no blood on the floor…" he added, turning his brother's head to glance at the yellow linoleum squares that took up the kitchen floor.

When Edgar looked around, he smiled back grimly at Norman. He reached up on his tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "Did you get a lickin'?"

"Yes," Norman said firmly, "And Sig and I are gonna tell you why. I'll be standing for this discussion, if you don't mind."

Sig came up behind them and gently guided Edgar to the kitchen chair so he'd be facing both of them, "Sit down, kid. Just let us talk to you for a minute and then we can play cards." _I have a feeling he isn't going to want to play cards when this talk is over._

Sig took the chair at the head of the table and pushed the tea and Dixie cup over in front of his youngest brother.

Edgar sat, looking back and forth between his brothers and then down at the white pill in the cup. "My hands don't hurt that bad. Do I have to take it?"

"Take the medicine," Norman said gently, "There's only one tough guy in this house and he's sitting right next to you." He looked over at Sig and smiled. Then he turned back to Edgar, "Your hands hurt. I can see the pain on your face. Neither one of us wants to see you hurting, so just take it." _Damn, I still can't stand to see my little brother's face bruised and swollen. I should have knocked all that guys teeth out._ "Here," Norman turned around, opening up the kitchen drawer and grabbing a straw. He walked over slowly and dropped it Edgar's tea cup, wincing slightly as he leaned over.

Not wanting to make a tense situation worse, Edgar tipped the Dixie cup over and let the pill fall on the table. Picking it up with his left index finger and thumb, he swallowed the pill and sipped his warm tea to wash it down. "Thanks for the tea, Norman." _And for it not being milk_.

"No problem," Norman picked his cup off the table, wrapping his hands around its warmth. He leaned against the refrigerator, thought twice about it and just stood in front of the table instead. _Damn, that paddle leaves a sting._

"OK," Sig steadied himself, looking directly at Edgar, "Here's what we want to tell you and I need you to listen to the whole story before you ask any questions. Can you do that?"

Edgar nodded. _Why do I think this is about more than just Norman sneaking out?_

Sig launched into his speech, rushing through nervously and trying to get everything out in the open.

Norman interjected with his own apologies for lying about where he was really going and making his brother leave the house. "I'm sorry, kid," he looked at Edgar, "It was a boldfaced lie and I have no excuses. I would have said almost anything to get you out of the house."

"I get it," Edgar said softly, "I did the same thing to both of you when I went down there." _And I told Matt the worse lie of my life about leaving something behind that belonged to my mom so I have no right to be angry with my brother for lying to me. I still don't understand why Sig hasn't punished me for all that._

"I don't want us lying to each other anymore and its part of the reason I wanted to tell you what happened tonight. The other part is that I don't want you to be afraid of Elliot and those guys anymore." Sig spoke about the man in black and the silent agreement between them.

Norman added proudly that he punched Joe and wished it had been Elliot because the bastard was wearing Sig's ring and it would have been the perfect time to try and get it back.

Edgar almost choked on his tea, letting the liquid go back down the straw with a splash.

Sig glared at his younger brother and told him to shut up, saying Norman shouldn't have been there in the first place and that was the reason he got punished, asking him if he needed more of a reminder.

By the time they were both done telling the story and arguing with each other, Edgar was staring blankly at the kitchen table.

Regaining his composure, Sig turned back to Edgar, "Look at me," he commanded softly. When he had Edgar's eye contact, he explained carefully, "Norman got paddled. I paddled him for putting his life in danger by going down there. I promised you I'd never touch that paddle again unless you knowingly put yourself in danger and the same goes for Norman. I love you both and I'll do anything to keep you both safe. It was just as hard for me to punish to him as it was to punish you but if it means you both know how serious I am about that, then I'll live with it." _Still hate doing it…but I'll live with it_.

"I don't want you feeling sorry for me, Edgar," Norman interjected, "I let my anger get the best of me and a lot of people could have gotten hurt, you included. So I have absolutely no hard feelings towards Sig about how he handled things. Everything between us is OK." Norman glanced over at Sig and waited, looking for some indication that he spoke the truth.

Sig nodded enthusiastically, making a dramatic show of it for both his brothers to see, "More than OK." He looked back at Edgar, "Kid, I didn't want you to know all this but I need you to know that all this Shack business is over. Those guys are never going to bother us again," Sig reached across the table, putting a hand on Edgar's forearm, "No one in this house is ever going back to that place EVER AGAIN because there's no reason to."

Edgar wanted to believe that but he couldn't. _But there is a reason to go back_. "May I be excused?" he asked as he went back to studying the table.

Sig didn't expect that to be the first question, "I guess. Don't you want to play cards?"

"No," Edgar continued looking down, "My hands really do hurt. I'd like to go to bed."

"Do you want me to sleep next to you?" Norman asked quietly. _Please don't go off and isolate yourself in your room._

Edgar looked up, "If you want to."

"Of course I do," Norman smiled reassuringly.

Without another word, Edgar finished his tea and left the kitchen, heading up to his room.

"I expected a ton of questions," Norman looked over at Sig, his blue eyes revealing his worn out state.

Sig sighed, leaning back in the chair, "It's a delayed reaction."

"Huh?"

The oldest brother got up from his chair and cleaned both tea cups from the table. "I've learned that when Edgar hears something he doesn't like, he tends to get quiet or walk away, like he needs time to process it. I'm not sure if he's upset that we kept this from him or that you got in trouble or that we went down there at all. It's probably all three and I bet he'll have questions later. He usually does once he accepts the information."

"Interesting," Norman said inquisitively, "Why did I never notice that?"

"Because whenever we told him things he didn't want to hear, like 'no, you can't go with us' or 'I just want to play with my friends, leave me alone and stop bothering me,' mom was always there to make him feel better with her words of wisdom and a batch of fresh baked cookies. Now," Sig said sadly, "he has to figure things out on his own."

Norman watched as Sig slink off into the living room and up the stairs. _No, he doesn't. He has us._

* * *

The bandage changing ordeal complete, Sig was pleased to see the some of the wounds on Edgar's hands were healing, albeit slowly. The salve wasn't as painful to apply this time, some of the new skin already forming, and Sig used less wrapping to cover the entire area.

Edgar held it together throughout the process, crying quietly but not flinching away. Norman didn't have to hold down his brother, just lay next to him on his belly and kept a hand on Edgar's chest for comfort.

Sig wished both his brothers a good night and went to get a shower, turning off the light and closing Edgar's bedroom door behind him. He could tell his younger brothers were exhausted and probably needed to talk without him around so he left quietly, sensing there were secrets about to be shared that he was no longer a part of. _That's what I get for being the 'parent' this summer. I get pushed out the 'kid' talk_.

With the door closed, Norman wrapped an arm around his brother and pulled him close. They were both lying on their stomachs, facing the same direction. The house was quiet except for the running of the shower water.

"Come on," Norman whispered, "I know you have questions."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I hope you're not mad at Sig about what happened. I really messed up, kid," Norman said, "I put my life…"

"You both put your lives in danger," Edgar interrupted, "For me…which is exactly what you both told me NOT to do for YOU."

"Because you're thirteen years old and thirteen year olds shouldn't have to worry about that kind of stuff. Neither should seventeen year olds, which is why I got in trouble tonight. We're both still kids, Edgar. Even though I don't feel like a kid most of the time, in the eyes of the law, I am. Tonight I got a good reminder about that fact," Norman stated. _I didn't even get to sign my own discharge paperwork at the hospital. Shit, I can't even get a tattoo yet_.

"But Sig's only 18," Edgar protested, "He's still a teenager. Why does he get to worry about this stuff when we can't?"

"18 is an adult and, believe me, Sig wishes he didn't have to worry about it. But he's the one in charge this summer so we're his responsibility…both of us. He's the one making the decisions," Norman smiled in the darkness, "Relief captain of the ship, remember? No one argues with the captain."

"I'm sorry you got in trouble trying to defend me," Edgar said softly.

Norman put his hand on Edgar's back, between his shoulder blades, "I said no feeling sorry for me."

"You always felt sorry for me when I got spanked," Edgar whispered.

Norman paused, begrudgingly admitting, "Point taken." He shifted his weight closer to his brother, "But, at the time, I thought what I was doing was worth the licking."

_I know how that feels_. "And now?"

"You want the honest answer?"

"Yeah."

"I still really don't know. I hate that I lied to you and that Sig got hurt. I hate it even more that I disappointed Sig so much. But I'll never let anyone hurt you…or Sig…without taking a stand," Norman reflected.

"Even though you got paddled for it?"

"It wasn't the paddle that was so bad, although Sig can really pack a wallop with that thing," Norman hugged his brother, laughing a little, "It was how hurt he was by what I did. That's why I know I never want to do again."

"Was he really mad?"

"At first," Norman rubbed unconsciously at his ear, "But he calmed down and we talked about everything. From what you've told me, he was just the same about the whole process as he has been with you."

Edgar felt immensely comforted by the information. "A lot different than dad, huh?"

"Ah…a whole hell of a lot."

"You hurting much?"

"Hmmm," Norman admitted reluctantly, "I won't be sitting comfortably for a day or so, I think." _Learn from my mistakes, little brother._

Edgar wiggled closer to his brother, turning to face him and burying his face under the big chest, nestling into Norman's side. _Too bad you have no ring to wear while you're getting better. But I'm gonna fix that. And I only have four days to get ready. FOUR DAYS!_

~tbc


	44. The Tooth Fairy: Because I Said So

**A/N: A small deviation from the 'Shack' related chapters. My apologies for the pause in that storyline but Edgar has a few things to say before we return there.**

**I have a few things as well. Thank you for the reviews and follows. I try to thank everyone on an individual and personal level because I want you to know how much the support and kindness really means to me so my apologies for not making a broad thank you before each chapter. To my guest reviews, I can only thank you here so my heartfelt appreciation goes out to all of you who continue to stick with this story.**

* * *

"Come on," Norman said, hustling the cards into a pile on the glass counter, "My boss comes in and sees me playing cards when I should be working, I'll be scooping out ice cream at the DQ for the rest of the summer." _And I can't watch you trying to hold the cards in your sore hand when you're clearly in pain from the effort. _

"You're not as good at poker as Sig is," Edgar quipped, disappointed his practice session wasn't more of a challenge. _I need more practice than this_.

"Sorry to let you down, little brother," Norman rushed to put the cards back in their box. He leaned over the counter and slid the pack of cards into Edgar's t-shirt pocket. "I don't have the patience for it. It's all luck and no logic. I like games where I can use my mind and not have to rely on fate to show me kindness."

"There's a lot of logic to it," Edgar defended the game, "You have to figure out all the possibilities and probabilities of your opponent's hand and weigh it against what's in yours. On top of it, you have to remember how much a guy bets when he thinks he has something compared to when he's bluffing. And there's always 'tells' that give people away so you have to watch his without giving away your own. _Luckily mine is waylaid by the bandages on my hands. I can't rub at my face every time I get nervous because it hurts too much._ You have to use your mind the whole time, Norman."

Norman blankly stared at his little brother. _When did you get to be a hustler? Sig has created a monster_. "And what happens when all those little tricks don't work," He asked as he cleaned off the pennies on the counter and pushed the cash register opening, eliciting a 'ding' when the drawer came flying open. The pennies clinked when they dropped back into the plastic divider.

Edgar shrugged, "Then you just have to go with your gut."

Norman pointed at Edgar in his 'Ah Ha' moment, "Then it DOES come down to luck, which is exactly what I said." Closing the cash register's drawer with a bang, he punctuated his thought. "Speaking of guts, mine's empty. You want lunch?"

It was another quiet Monday at the hardware store and customer traffic had been light. The retired fishermen crowd had already wandered in on their way to the coffee shop. Like a knitting circle, they dispersed the latest gossip about the fishing season and asked the boys about their father. After they had left, Norman spent the morning rearranging and dusting shelves and occupying his time to keep from looking at the clock every few minutes. Edgar was getting antsy, unable to help very much and feeling useless. Norman broke down and played poker with him to keep his little brother from going crazy with boredom, restraining his desire to find out why Edgar was carrying the cards around in his pocket.

The youngest brother didn't have the opportunity to answer the question about lunch. The cowbell over the front door clattered as it rattled against the glass, Amanda, Sally and their father strolling in from the heat of midday summer.

Edgar watched a flurry of emotions cross Norman's face. Upon seeing Amanda in her light cotton shorts and blond hair pulled back into a swinging ponytail, Norman's eyes sparkled with appreciation. To Sally, Norman offered a sweet smile. When their father, Mr. Winchester, was the last through the door, Norman's back went rigid, his shoulder's squared up and his face became impassive.

The youngest brother stifled a giggle, thinking to himself that Norman's reaction to the ex-marine's presence was very similar to a private in the Marine Corps when his drill sergeant came bustling through the barrack's door. _I wonder if Norman will drop and give him twenty_.

As the family approached the counter, Edgar became self-conscious of his black eye and regretted not having anywhere to hide. He was particularly embarrassed to have Sally see him looking like he'd been licked in a fight.

Considering that Amanda may have shared the real reasons for Edgar's current appearance with her little sister, he contemplated which was worse; Sally thinking he'd gotten his ass kicked in a fist fight or being tortured by some thugs because he was hanging out at the Shack. _I don't want her thinking I'm some wuss but I don't want her to think I'm a bad kid, either. Jesus, half the town probably knows since Sig told all his fishing friends. I never be able to go back to school again._

Both thoughts were forgotten the minute Sally graced Edgar with a blazing smile and displayed no outward signs of being horrified by the wounds on his face. She looked straight at him without pity or apprehension, just a friendly and warm grin that extended to her kind amber eyes. Gratefully, Edgar returned the pleasant smile with one of his own. He took note that Sally was wearing tight-fitting spring green shirt that revealed a budding bosom and the youngest brother felt a momentary pang of guilt that his eyes wandered so automatically to that part of her body. _Norman was dead right. As long as there are boobs in the world, we're all in trouble_.

"Sir," Norman wisely addressed Amanda's father first. "Hi," he whispered as he glanced at Amanda, the one little word weighed down with an unspoken message his eyes tried to convey only to her. _You look amazing. If your father wasn't stand right here, I'd take you in my arms and kiss you until you couldn't breathe. It's only been a few days since I've seen you but I miss you so much._

"Hi," Amanda whispered back, sharing the same thoughts and wishing her father would go away for a few minutes.

"Norman," her father greeted his daughter's boyfriend with a wary eye. The looks between the two teenagers made the ex-marine feel very uncomfortable. "Do you sell those new home security systems here?" he asked, getting down to business.

"Yes, sir," Norman turned his attention back to Mr. Winchester, nodding, "Aisle three, left hand side, top shelf. Do you want me to show you?" _I'm glad you're getting one of those because I hate that those bastards know where you live, even if they sort of promised to leave us alone._

"I'll do it. I know where they are," Edgar interjected quickly, pleased to have something to do.

Leading the way, Edgar walking Amanda's father and Sally down the aisle, leaving Norman a few minutes alone with his girlfriend. With a sideways glance to confirm the group was occupied, Norman made his way around the counter and wasted no time. He grabbed his girl and kissed her soundly, running his hands over her back.

Amanda melted into the muscular embrace, returning the kiss and slipping her tongue into Norman's mouth with skill. She wrapped her hands around his back, letting them slide down slowly and firmly grasped his denim-covered butt cheeks with both hands.

The middle brother tensed, wincing as the female hands unknowingly squeezed his sore backside.

"What," Amanda pulled her mouth away when she felt him flinch.

"Ummm…" Norman faltered, "I was working out last night."

"Norman Scott Hansen," she scolded with a hiss, swatting his backside playfully with a muffled slap of her small hand.

Norman's eyes painfully screwed shut as her manicured hand and tender assault made matters 'back there' worse. _OUCH!_

Amanda didn't notice the pain cross her man's face, "You're not allowed to be working out. The doctor said no exercise, remember?"

"I…remember," Norman choked out with a cough, the stinging heat returning to his right butt cheek and reigniting Sig's punishment from last night.

"You need to take better care of yourself," she added softly, concerned her big man would reinjure himself.

"I don't want to get fat," he smiled, ignoring the pain coming from his backside. He pulled away from her and flexed his right arm. "All this muscle can turn to fat faster than you think." He tried to jiggle some fat in his stomach with both hands to demonstrate his point but the taunt six pack abs had no flesh to spare and she only ended up laughing at him.

"I'd still love you if you were 300 lbs. and eating ten cheesy enchiladas for breakfast every morning," she laughed.

"HMMM, enchiladas," Norman rubbed a big circle over his stomach, a dreamy look in his eyes and lunch back on his mind.

Amanda shook her head with a sigh. _Men - most of the time they're either thinking about sex or food. The other part of the time, they're sleeping._

Back in aisle three, Edgar stopped and pointed at a large box on the top shelf, the gesture drawing unwanted attention to his injured hands. Amanda's father took closer notice to the white wrapping and the boy's bruised face. He couldn't help but take pity on the young man.

"Let me get it down," he said simply, pushing the box to the edge of the shelf and scooping it up in his arms. Standing with the box against his chest, Mr. Winchester looked over at Edgar, "Your brother told me you were pretty banged up. I see he didn't lie."

Feeling uneasy about the reminder of his appearance, Edgar's eyes hit the floor, "Yes, sir."

"Your father is away this summer?" Mr. Winchester asked cautiously. Of course, the man knew about their mother's death over the winter. He had attended the funeral with Amanda and her mother. And he also knew of Mr. Hansen's trade as an offshore fisherman.

Edgar looked up, giving the man in front of him his full attention and respect, "Yes, sir."

"Did your oldest brother call the police?"

"He did, sir."

"Good," Mr. Winchester replied firmly, "Those men should be thrown in prison till they rot."

"Sons of bitches," a high pitched female voice piped up from behind her father. Sally peaked around her father's wide back, smiled at Edgar and winked her amber eye once in a seductive fashion beyond her young years.

Edgar would have broken out in laughter that the normally shy and quiet Sally even knew such words, let alone used them. But the fury on her father's face stopped Edgar's laughter before it escaped his throat.

"YOUNG LADY," Mr. Winchester turned around to stare down his youngest daughter, "You will not use that kind of language again."

"Yes, daddy," Sally blanched at her father's fierce tone, embarrassed to be reprimanded in front of the boy she liked. _ What was I thinking? I just wanted to impress him and let him know how bad I feel for him._

"We'll discuss this further when we get home," he said sternly, walking back towards the counter. He grumbled to himself, "Where did you even hear such language. You're lucky I've got my hands full."

As the two young teens followed behind, Sally whispered in Edgar's ear, "He says it ALL the time." She smiled sadly this time and brushing up against Edgar's arm as she walked past him.

The slight touch and the smell of her perfume caused a pause in Edgar's heart rhythm and it skipped a beat. The shy girl had a spirited side, much like her older sister, and that had more appeal to Edgar than any parts of her anatomy ever could. The testosterone lying dormant in his body began to stir.

Hearing heavy footsteps approaching, Norman and Amanda separated quickly and the young Romeo took his place behind the counter. As he rung up the sale, he screwed up his courage and asked, "Sir, in a few weeks, my brothers and I are having a BBQ for July 4th at my parent's lake house. I'd love it if Amanda and Sally could come up for the day."

"We are?" Edgar asked excitedly. _This is news to me._

Norman ignored his brother and focused on Mr. Winchester's face. The man looked like he just swallowed straight vinegar. "Well, we'll have to see. I'll speak with my wife about it." He said slowly, deferring to his wife when it came to telling the girls something they didn't want to hear, like the word 'no', "AND my daughters need to behave themselves from now till then." _My wife will probably talk me into letting them go, against my better judgment, of course_.

The Winchester girls had the good sense to bow their heads and avoid their father's sweeping gaze.

Norman handed Mr. Winchester his change and a receipt. "These systems are a pain to set up but people who bought them tell me they're worth it. If you need help installing it, I can lend a hand."

"Is that part of Pete's hardware store's free services?" Mr. Winchester asked smartly, his delicate male ego bruised by the offer.

"No," Norman wanted to kick himself for saying anything. _I just want you to like me. I'm not insinuating you're not 'man enough' to install the damn thing on your own. I'm really good with this stuff, not that it looks like I'll get a chance to show you._ "But I'll help you if you want."

"I'll remember that," Mr. Winchester grumbled. _If I need help, I'll call my marine buddies or my brother or the company that makes the system. But a seventeen-year-old kid is the LAST person I'd call_. "OK, girls, let's go. Your mother is waiting at the Five and Dime. See ya, boys." He was particularly discouraged to see the goo-goo eyes between his youngest daughter and the young, shaggy haired boy. _Not you, too, Sally! I'm not ready for this yet!_

As Mr. Winchester proceeded out the door, Sally close behind him, Amanda leaned across the counter and gave her boyfriend a peck on the lips. "I love you," she whispered.

"I miss you, baby," Norman said desperately, his eyes pleading with her not to leave.

The touching scene between Norman and Amanda reminded Edgar of the play his middle school drama club had performed last year. It was Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet and Edgar thought all that was missing right now was a balcony and a pudgy nursemaid.

"AMANDA," Mr. Winchester growled impatiently from the door.

The oldest sister rolled her eyes at Norman and Edgar, smiled a little and made a motion with her thumb and index finger like a phone. Then she hurried her tan, petite legs out the door.

Norman watched her go with deep longing. It would be a torturous two weeks before he could see her again. Her father, on the other hand, he hoped not to see for a while. "Damn, that man hates me," he spoke out of frustration, tearing out the end of the receipt roll from the register.

"He's scarier than dad," Edgar muttered.

"I could have that system installed in under two hours," Norman barely heard his brother, "How much you wanna bet he'll spend the day cursing at the instructions and calling the company, complaining that their product is defective?" He angrily placed the new roll in the register and slammed the door, "Well, serves him right! Let him waste his time."

"Norman?" the youngest brother called softly.

"What?" was the gruff reply.

"I believe you could install that system in under one hour." Edgar said in a soft but firm voice. _I really do._

The gentle voice behind him quelled his anger. Norman turned towards the front of the counter and looked appreciatively at the admiration in his brother's face. He sighed. _Someone believes in me. In fact, someone looks up to me. So stop acting like a spurned woman. _ He reached over and ruffled the shaggy and slightly greasy hair. "Thanks, kid. Maybe we should get one of those for our house. It might have helped that day Elliot and his guys threatened you."

"No," Edgar said sadly, looking away, "They cornered me on the porch before I had a chance to get back into the house."

Norman was struck with a thunderbolt to his chest. "Did they hurt you that day?" he asked Edgar in a strangled voice.

"I don't want to talk about it," Edgar brushed away his brother's hand from his hair, getting sick of the pitying looks everyone seemed to be giving him. His good mood turned on a dime and he started to feel agitated and short-tempered. _I'm NOT helpless. I'm tough, just like my brothers and I'm getting tired of being treated like a baby or an invalid. I'm not just some kid that is gonna let people kick the shit out of me and not do something about it. I'm gonna be brave and make things right. Maybe then the images of those guys will stop haunting my dreams and my brothers won't be on the verge of crying every time they look at me. I'm NOT going to be a victim the rest of my life._ "Let's eat," Edgar changed the subject, reaching around the counter for his bagged lunch.

_Don't push him, Sig said. OK, I won't but, shit, it's hard not to. I forgot about those bastards coming to our house. I'd love to get that security system but it's a lot of money._ Norman hid a smile. _A dog from the pound would be a lot cheaper_. "I packed you turkey on rye, your favorite," Norman said in a sing-song voice.

The first bite of the sandwich elicited a groan and confused look from the youngest brother. He pulled back the bread and was surprised to find several drips of blood on the fresh rye and his last baby tooth sticking up from the teeth impressions.

Grabbing a paper towel from the shelf behind him, Norman ripped off a sheet and handed it to Edgar so he could stop the bleeding. Looking down, Norman gently pried the tooth from the sandwich and admired the white molar. "Last one?" he asked, completely confused as to why he suddenly felt sad at the thought.

"YHHA," Edgar answered, paper towel hanging out of his mouth.

"Looks like someone's getting a visit from the Tooth Fairy tonight," Norman said mischievously, slipping the tooth into his jean's pocket.

Edgar practically ripped the paper towel from his mouth, splashing spit and blood on the clean bandages around his right hand. "Jesus, Norman, I'm not a fucking baby. Throw the damn thing away."

"Whoa there, little brother," Norman's eyes grew wide, "First off, I was just joking. Second, watch your mouth." _And I don't mean the blood coming from it_.

"Why," Edgar tossed the bloody paper towel into the trash can, "You and Sig curse all the time. Why can't I?"

"Because…(_mom wouldn't like it)_…I said so." _ Oh, where's my big brother now when I need him? So much for inheriting my mother's talented way of explaining things just right_.

"That's a dumb ass reason."

"Maybe so but I'm still bigger than you so deal with it," Norman quipped back quickly and regretted his words before they left his mouth. _The kid was just tortured by a group of guys bigger than him. Way to go, idiot._ "Hey," his voice growing softer, "What happened to the 'I respect you as much as Sig' speech you gave me the night we went to Amanda's house? Would you talk to Sig like that?"

Edgar stared confused at his older brother, "I…I thought we were the 'kids' this summer, remember? You said so last night."

Norman grappled with finding a solution to the dilemma he unintentionally created. "We are. But I'm still your big brother and, for the moment, I'm the one in charge. This," he pointed around the store, "is my ship and I'm the captain." He glanced at the confused and slightly hurt green eyes in front of him. "Damn, I'm not doing a good job explaining this, huh?"

"I want…" Edgar struggled with the words.

"What?" Norman pressed him gently, "Just say it, Ed. You can tell me whatever you want."

Edgar shifted on the balls of his feet, looking up at the drop ceiling and florescent overhead lights. "I want…" he tried again, glancing back at Norman, "I want the same relationship with you that you have with Sig."

"You want the two of us to fight all the time?" Norman asked with a smart ass smile.

"No," Edgar huffed, "You know what I mean. I know you do."

"I wish I did," Norman answered truthfully.

"Forget it," Edgar said in defeat, giving up and going back to his sandwich.

"No," Norman said firmly, pulling the sandwich out of Edgar's hands with care and placing it back on the counter. "Tell me. What did you mean about Sig and me?"

"I don't know what I meant," Edgar's hand went to his face, momentarily forgetting about his wounds. The second the wrapping touched his cheek, he pulled his hand away and winced. "OW!" His self-soothing technique taken from him, he felt the internal frustration building up inside him.

Norman took note of the motion and felt instantly sorry for his brother. A look of pity crossed his face.

"Stop looking at me like that," Edgar blurted out, suddenly angry.

"Like what?"

"Like you feel sorry for me. You and Sig have been looking at me like that since I got beat up and I'm sick of it," Edgar started shaking, his elbows trembling against the table. "I'm not a baby." Despite the declaration, the youngest brother's eyes began filling with hot, salty water and he desperately tried blinking away the tears before they started.

Norman was at a total loss. His younger brother's emotions were suddenly like a rollercoaster today. _One minute he was bored out of his mind, the next excited to see a girl he liked and then clearly embarrassed to be seen with his face bashed in. Now, one minute he's lippy, disrespectful and offended to be treated like a baby, the next he's about to break down and cry like a baby. What's the logical explanation? Is it the abuse he suffered? Is he sad? Is it just teenage hormones? Is it the pain from his hands or the sight of the blood on the sandwich? I get a damn thirty minutes for lunch and I never take it. Today, I'm taking it._ Walking around the counter, he went over to the glass door and locked the handle, flipping over the sign on the window to read 'Closed' to the outside world.

Turning back to his brother, Norman said with authority, "Come with me. We're talking about this right now." He walked over to Edgar and guided him with a gentle hand on his shoulder around to the back of the store. Opening the storage room, he ushered Edgar in and shut the door.

The storage room was full of boxes and shelves with a small area for the employees to hang up their coats and personal items while they were at work. There was a leather sofa, an old black and white TV and small table for lunch breaks in one corner. A low padded bench stuck out from the other corner of the wall, like a locker room, and Norman guided his brother over to the area.

Sitting down on the padded bench, the older brother hid a wince and pulled Edgar between his knees, refusing to let him brush off a conversation that seemed important to him. "Talk to me," he said simply, holding onto his younger brother's wrists.

Edgar just stood between his older brother's knees, finding it difficult to look at the pity and confusion on Norman's face and wanting to go home so he could hide in his bedroom all day, playing Atari and forgetting about everything. _I want to forget about Sig's ring and the reason he doesn't have it anymore because it kills me to think about it. I want to forget that my brothers risked their lives trying to protect me and Norman got punished for it when I never got a single consequence for doing the same thing. I want to forget about the pain in my hands and on my back and legs where they beat and kicked me. I want to forget that mom died. I want to forget how alone I feel when Sig and Norman talk to each other like adults, cussing and sharing stuff I don't understand, and I get left out. I want to forget how much I need them to see me as a big kid and how much I just really want them to take care of me without thinking I'm a baby. _

"Talk!" Norman commanded softly, recognizing his brother was on the edge.

"I…" Edgar looked down at the floor, tears streaming down his face.

Like the freight train his big brother accurately described him as, Norman went full steam ahead and ignored the tears. "Edgar," he said softly, "Look at me."

With a shaky sigh, Edgar turned his attention back to Norman. The tears were still falling silently down his face but he lifted his eyes and tried to control his vacillating emotions.

"Did I do something wrong?" Norman was desperate, trying to make sense of what was happening and stop the rollercoaster ride before he threw up.

"I'm tired," Edgar moaned, wanting to crawl in his big lap and hating himself for it.

"Do you want to rest on the sofa?" Norman offered.

Edgar shook his head, his bangs swishing from the side of his face, "I'm tired of being treated like a baby." He pulled his wrists free of his brother's grasp.

Norman let go, mindful of his brother's hands and not wanting to force the physical contact. "No one is treating you like a baby," he explained simply.

"You just yelled at me for cussing," the younger brother whined, defensive and raising his voice, "Why can't I talk to you like you talk to Sig?" The small squeak in his deepening voice did nothing to help his cause.

"Because…" Norman bit back the words '_you're still a kid and it doesn't sound right nice hearing those words from a kid._'

"Because is not an answer," Edgar crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling every ounce of his teenage angst.

"Because mom wouldn't like it," Norman blurted out, "Because I feel like I need to honor her…I want to keep her ways and she wouldn't want her thirteen year old son using that kind of language." Sighing, he continued on, "I'm sure she didn't want her older sons using it either and I've tried to curb my own colorful language around you. It's harder with Sig because we have more adult conversations."

"That's what I mean," Edgar felt like he just had his own 'Ah Ha' moment. "You guys talk and leave me out." The anger at being misunderstood was mounting and the infused testosterone spiked rapidly, "It's not fair. You get to be the kid AND the adult. I'm stuck just being 'the kid' all the time."

"Not forever, Edgar," Norman smiled, "Someday you won't be and then you can cuss till your heart's content. Maybe I overstepped my boundaries by telling you to watch your mouth but I didn't mean to insult you. That was the last thing I wanted to do."

"I'm not helpless," Edgar said soft, a hard edge to his tone, "I hate looking like this…" he pointed to the black eye and bruised cheek, "…I hate that I can't take a shower or eat pizza by myself…" he held out his bandaged hands for his brother to see as proof, "…I hate that I tried to fix everything myself and it turned out to be such a fuc…freaking mess. I caused all this by hanging out at the Shack in the first place. And my big brothers had to come to my rescue and fix my mistakes. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THAT MAKES ME FEEL?" The tears were coming like persistent raindrops but Edgar kept on in his self-deprecating binge, "I racked up a hospital bill I know dad can't afford and he's gonna freak out when he gets home and sees it. Sig lost his ring and started smoking again. I saw the butts on the porch and I smelled it in his car last night. You got angry last night and went down there. Sig got hurt and some of his friends, too. Then you got in trouble and you're still hurting today. AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT, ALL OF IT." Fighting so hard to keep himself together, Edgar finally broke down, anger and frustration seeping out of his pores. "You and Sig look at me and all you see is a kid that screwed up…a helpless kid that can't protect himself or do anything right."

Norman had enough, his patience not nearly what Sig's was. "If you think I see you like that, you need glasses. Never once have I ever thought that. NEVER."

"I just want to be alone," Edgar whispered, walking over to the sofa and laying down. He curled up on his side, away from his brother and covered his eyes with his forearm, sobbing quietly. "Go away!"

"Not after you just dropped a bombshell like that," Norman stood up and moved over to the sofa. Gingerly sitting down on the edge, he placed a hand on Edgar's upper arm. When the boy flinched from the touch, the older brother initially assumed it was because Edgar was mad his request for solitude was denied. On second inspection of the area, Norman noticed the large, square Band-Aid peeking out from Edgar's short shirt sleeve. He pushed the sleeve up, revealing the entire bandage.

"This is where they burned you?" Norman asked, almost choking on the words.

The unexpected question caused Edgar to turn his head back and look blankly at his brother, tear streaks staining his cheeks.

"Because you kept passing out," it wasn't a question but rather a factual statement.

Edgar eyes grew big but he nodded anyway, unsure of how Norman got his information and feeling betrayed. The anger in him was close to its boiling point.

Norman ran his finger over the outer edge of the Band-Aid. His face was twisted with pain and anger and it felt like a brick was resting on his heart.

"THAT'S THE LOOK," Edgar hissed with venom and buried his head back into the sofa, "That's the look I can't stand."

"I don't know what 'this look' is but, whatever it is, I don't mean anything by it," Norman threw his hands up, becoming defensive and frustrated himself. "You're my brother. If you hurt, I hurt. And it seems like you're hurting all over right now. Will you please talk to me about it?"

"And hurt you more?" Edgar whispered angrily, "No…I've hurt you and Sig enough. I can't take anymore guilt."

"Edgar…I," Norman was at a loss for words, "I don't know what to say. I don't know how to help you if you won't talk to me."

"YOU CAN'T HELP ME," Edgar practically shouted into his arm, "No one can. Not you or Sig or any of my friends." _Or mom_.

"Sounds pretty lonely," Norman leaned over the sofa, placing his hand on the wall. He tried to get Edgar to look at him but was unsuccessful.

Edgar only buried himself further into the back of the couch, crying silent, angry tears and hiding his face.

"OK," Norman sat back up, "I'll talk and you listen."

Edgar groaned through his tears, wishing Norman would just leave. The older brother ignored the noise.

"You're right about some of the things you said and very wrong about some others so let me just make some things clear," Norman talked to the old jean jacket hanging on the coatrack, a permanent fixture in the store from a fired employee who never returned for it. "You're right when you said some of this is your fault. Elliot and his asinine friends would have never come to the house if you hadn't been hanging out at the Shack in the beginning of the summer. And you should have told us the minute they left the house what happened. But you deceived us and risked your own life doing what you thought was right. Those were your mistakes."

Stopping to catch his breath, Norman proceeded, "Everything that happened after that: Sig smoking and giving up his ring and me getting my ass roasted for risking my life and Sig's friends getting roughed up in the brawl and the freaking hospital bill we'll find some way to pay off…NONE of that was your fault."

The older brother glanced down to see if he was getting any kind of reaction. Edgar was still a fresh fallen snow and gave no indication he was listening.

Undeterred, Norman stormed on, "Sig wanted to smoke. He was just looking for a reason. He took you to the hospital because he was scared to death you were gonna die from some hidden internal injuries he couldn't see. He gave up his ring…"

"STOP," Edgar screamed into the leather, "I'm tired. I'd like to go to sleep. Please, Norm, just leave me alone for a while."

"I'll shut up but I'm not leaving," Norman said softly, "I'll stay with you till you fall asleep."

When Norm reached out to stroke his brother's back, Edgar flinched away, punching the soft leather sofa and sucking in his breathe from the pain radiating in his right hand.

Ed looked up at his brother, fury in his eyes. "I'm not some baby that needs to soothed to sleep when they need a nap," he said harshly, unconsciously punishing himself and denying the need for comfort under the guise of 'being tough.' "And I don't need either one of you sleeping with me at night anymore. JUST LEAVE ME ALONE."

Norman gave up, logic telling him he was doing more harm than good. _I'm only making him more angry and upset_. "Fine," he said firmly but in a tender voice. As he stood to leave, he added, "I'll leave you be. If you need me, I'll be in…"

"I won't need you."

Norman glanced down at the sofa, the lanky teenager taking up a better part of it with his long legs and slender frame. As he shifted on his side and folded his knees into his stomach, Edgar's t-shirt slid up his back, exposing the welts and bruises still blacked and raised above his waist line. His soft brown hair was tangled and his sore hands were pulled tight to his chest. It was a defensive posture meant to shut out the world. _But you do need me. _ _Whatever 'look' he's accusing me of is surely on my face right at this moment because I feel like my heart is about to burst. I wish I had a mirror so I knew what it looked like, this 'look' on my face. Why does this kid pick the worst times to be stubborn? He wants me to treat him like a grown up when he really just needs to be a kid, especially now when he's experiencing more pain than he ever has and he has no mom to kiss the 'boo-boos' away._

"Well, need me or not, I'm right outside the door," Norman whispered, unsure if Edgar even heard him. He left quietly, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Sig arrived home around eight o'clock that night, exhausted from a long shift and not looking forward to a solid week of late nights. His work clothes were stained with sweat. He felt gross but took notice to the newly hung wind chimes as he walked up the porch steps. The wooden base had been firmly attached to a small, gold linked chain which hung from the porch roof. Smiling to himself, he flicked the suspended central clapper and listened to the soft melodious tinkling.

Norman was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea and reading his book. He looked up when the door opened and his big brother's form took up most of the fading sunlight streaming in. "Hey."

"Hey," Sig smiled, thinking Norman looked very much like their mother. _How many hours did she sit there, sipping her tea, reading her book and waiting for all her boys to be safe and sound at home before going to bed? Speaking of which…_ "Nice job with the wind chimes."

"Thanks," Norman smiled back, then mentioned, "Leftovers in the frig," as he returned to Stephen King's twisted novel. The man was quickly becoming his favorite author.

Walking around the table, Sig went to wash his hands and face in the sink. Drying his face off with a sigh, he glanced over and noted Norman was sitting on one of the throw pillows that usually called the sofa its home. A sharp pang of sadness and something close to regret hit his chest hard and he had to shake off the all-to-familiar feeling that had become a part of this unique summer's routine.

Popping open the refrigerator door, Sig pulled out a covered plate sitting on the top shelf. Peeking inside, he found a Shake-n-Bake pork chop, new potatoes and fresh carrots. As he preheating the oven, he placed the plate on the counter and grabbed a can of Coca-Cola from the refrigerator door. Shutting the refrigerator door, Sig stood and stared at the back of Norman's head.

In an effort to return to normal, the oldest brother sneaked up behind his unsuspecting younger brother and went to shove the icy cold metal can down the back of Norman's t-shirt.

"Don't even think about it,' Norman said flatly, not once glancing away from his book.

Sig froze in mid-step, can posed in his hand. Caught, he snapped his fingers and placed the can down on the kitchen table. Still standing behind his brother, he placed both hands on Norman's shoulders.

Norman was startled by the unexpected affection but forced himself to remain as still as a doe.

"You OK?" Sig asked quietly, the simple question came with implied significance. In case Norman missed the implication, Sig took the liberty of kneading the massive shoulders for a millisecond before just letting his hands rest still.

"Yup," Norman answered, not minding the second's worth of a massage and wishing he had the courage to tell his brother so.

"Good," Sig said, removing his hands and hoping he hadn't pushed his luck with the outwardly display of concern and compassion.

The oven beeped once, an indication to its owners that it was ready to perform its sole task in life. Digging out the cookie tray from the narrow cabinet, Sig arranged the plate and foil on top and positioned the tray into the oven.

"Where's Edgar?" he asked, shutting the oven door and plopping down at the table.

Norman kept reading, "Asleep."

"Asleep?" Sig repeated skeptically, "It's only 8:15 PM." He looked over and confirmed the time on the oven clock.

"Let's just say it was not a good day," Norman grumbled, closing his book and leaving it sit on the table. Leaning back, he delved around in his jean's pocket and withdrew a small, white tooth, blood still crusted on the inside of the roots. He let the tooth rest in the palm of his open hand and displayed it to his older brother.

"Did you knock someone else's tooth out?" Sig asked with a wide grin, the baby tooth obviously too small to come from an adult mouth.

"HA, HA," Norman said sarcastically, "It's Edgar's"

"Last one?" Sig asked, a strange look of sadness crossing his face.

Norman had to wonder if that was the 'look' Edgar had been talking about today. "Yes, last one."

"Guess it's a good thing I have a dollar in my wallet," Sig stood up and took the tooth out of Norman's hand. He placed it in his own pocket.

Norman frowned, "Um, if I were you, I won't go there."

Sig looked even sadder at the thought. "What? I don't get to be the Tooth Fairy?" _I want to do some of the FUN stuff that comes with being a parent and this is one of them. Why does it have to be scolding, lecturing and discipline all the time? Why can't it be the fun things, too? _

Norman waited for Sig to grab his fork and knife from the drawer and sit back down. When he had Sig's attention again, the middle brother folded his hands formally on the table and straightened his back against the chair. He began in an awfully fake British accent, "NOTE TO MANANGEMENT: Mr. E. Hansen has decided he is no longer a baby and wishes to no longer be treated as such. He requests …no… demands be treated as the young man he is, ready to embark on the joys and responsibilities of adulthood," Norman's eye twitched slightly at his own voice, "The Tooth Fairy's services will no longer required. Nor are ours when it comes to sleeping in his room at night. Indeed, we are no longer allowed to look upon him."

A blank look befell Sig's face. Absorbing the 'note to management' for a moment, he finally replied, "I think I'll go back to work."

"Too late," Norman switched back to his own deep, American voice, "You're already home."

"Do I even want to know?" Sig slumped in his chair.

"No," Norman answered, "But I'll tell you anyway because I was there and I STILL don't know what the hell happened."

Reliving the events of the day, Norman explained passionately that everything SEEMED normal. Breakfast and the trip to the store were innocuous events. His poker skills soring lacking, Norman doubted that was the cause. Then, he regaled the tale of the Winchester family visit to the store, flavoring his description of Mr. Winchester's attitude with a few choice, salty words.

"We were going to eat lunch," Norman spoke, his tone fluctuating, "Edgar took one bite of his sandwich, the tooth came out and suddenly the wheels came off the bus."

"You're gonna have to be more descriptive than that," Sig leaned back on his chair.

"I made a joke about the Tooth Fairy. He told me he was 'not a fucking baby' and to throw the tooth away. I told him I was joking, which between you and me, I wasn't, and to watch his mouth," Norman glanced at the table, uncertain if Sig would support his earlier chastisement of Edgar's 'potty mouth.'

"It's not like him to drop the 'F' bomb like that unless he's really upset," Sig started to get worried, "What happened before the tooth came out?"

"Nothing," Norman said, "I swear."

"Must have been something."

"No, not that I can think of," Norman searched for an answer, "Well, we were talking about home security systems. I guess because I was thinking maybe we should get one. I mentioned it might have been helpful when Elliot and his asshole friends stopped by last Friday."

Sig refrained from smacking his brother over the head. Calmly, he asked instead, "How did he react to that?"

"He told me they cornered him on the porch so a home security system would have been useless," Norman explained, ignorant of the irritation his older brother was experiencing, "I asked him if they hurt him that day."

Sig glared back at his brother.

"Shit, Sig," Norman caved under the glare, "It just came out. I know you said not to push him but…I forgot about that day and I just…"

"I would have asked him, too," Sig sighed, reining in his annoyance, "Don't feel bad. What did he say?" _ Do I want to know?_

"He told me he didn't want to talk about it so I dropped it," Norman shrugged, "Then the tooth came out, he cussed, I told him to watch his language and he got defensive. It all went downhill from there."

"Explain," was the simple command.

Sig got his explanation as he sipped his Coca-Cola, grateful for the cool, bubbling sensation and rush of sugar to keep his nerves from fraying. Norman talked about the sudden angry outbursts, the frustration about being treated like a helpless baby, the defensiveness of not being allowed to curse, the immense guilt over everything being his fault, the sadness of feeling alone and the 'look' of pity. He left nothing out, including the silent ride home, refusal of dinner and self-imposed early bedtime.

"I tried, Sig," Norman sounded helpless, the strange turn of events beyond his logical understanding, "He refused to come down to eat so I brought dinner up to him. He told me he didn't need my help and to leave, so I did. A little while later, when I went to check on him, the plate was outside his room and the door was shut. He didn't touch a bit of food. As a matter of fact," Norman pointed to the oven, "You're heating up his dinner right now."

Sig sipped the last of his soda, "Did you knock on the door?"

"Yeah, and I went in without asking. The lights were out and he was asleep under his covers," Norman finished. "That's all I got."

"Jesus Christ," Sig swore.

"I'm sorry," Norman looked as if he was now going to cry, "I did the best I could. I'm not you. I don't know how to handle whatever the fuck was going on with him. He wouldn't really tell me."

Sig reached over and nudged his brother's chest with his bent fingers, "I'm not mad at you. You did the best you could. I'm just frustrated. I thought I cleared up a lot of that stuff with him, like the guilt about what happened and not being alone anymore."

"Maybe he's upset about the tooth?" Norman offered at a pathetic attempt to make sense of it all.

"It's probably a small part of it," Sig nodded reassuringly when Norman looked surprised that his suggestion was taken under advisement, "It's the first and last baby tooth without mom around. He'd never admit it but I'm sure that fact is playing somewhere in his mind." The older brother took the tooth back out of his pocket, studying the delicate features and minuscule nick in the enamel. _Wonder how that happened?_

"So what now?" Norman asked softly, welcoming Sig to take over the reins of the house.

"I don't know," Sig sounded just as lost as Norman, "But he's eating something." Standing up, Sig grabbed a potholder from the kitchen drawer and opened the oven door. He removed the warm tray and placed it on the stovetop burners. Balancing the hot plate in his hands, he scooped up the utensils.

"Sig," Norman hesitated, "Maybe you shouldn't…"

Looking back at his brother, Sig cocked an eyebrow. "You think I'm afraid to go into the lion's den?" He smiled, "I'm the fucking Tooth Fairy for Christ's sake. Lions don't scare me." With that, he left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

His younger brother went back to reading Stephen King, wondering which was more frightening: A scary novel or an angry, lonely teenager in a lot of pain.

~tbc


	45. The Tooth Fairy: The Tooth Hurts

_God, give me the strength_. Sig repeated the little chant in his head as he carried the plate, utensils and baby tooth in his hands. Reaching the top of the steps, he paused and reevaluated the situation.

_I don't want to force him to eat but the kid hasn't had anything since breakfast, per Norman. Of course, many a kid has gone to bed hungry and survived to tell the tale. It's really not about the food. It's about refusing to let him take all the blame for this Shack bullshit because I know where that trajectory is headed. With him spiraling down the dark hole of self-hatred and convincing himself no one loves him because he's somehow 'unlovable.' Not for one second do I believe this 'stop treating me like a baby' rhetoric is just about him wanting to be treated like an adult. _

Sig closed his eyes and centered himself. _Whatever happens on the other side of that door, regardless of what's said or thrown at me, I'm keeping my cool. If I start to lose it, I'm walking out before I say something I'll regret_.

A cleansing sigh and a few steps later, the oldest brother tapped the closed bedroom door of his youngest brother with his Timberland work boot. "Hey, it's me," he called loudly, "I brought you dinner."

Silence.

"Edgar," Sig said softer as he leaned into the doorframe, "Can I come in?"

Silence.

"OK, I'm coming in." Sig knelt down and placed the plate on the floor, slipping the fork and tooth into his back pocket. Hesitantly, he went to open the door, only to find the doorknob locked. _Shit_. Jiggling the handle, Sig called out, "Edgar, let me in. I just want to talk to you." A spark of panic trickled up his spine. _Please be in there. Please be in there. Please be…_

"I'm not hungry," was a muffled but audible reply.

"I'm not Poland. Nice to meet you," Sig called back, rolling his eyes at his own cheesy joke. _That was just pathetic._ "Now let me in so we can talk."

_Go away. I'm in no mood for company._ "I'm sleeping."

"Really?" was the suspicious question.

_Ugh. Why do 'parents' have to push at the worst times?_ "Yes, really."

"Then how are you talking?"

Silence.

"So now you're not talking?" Sig asked, "Does that mean you're sleeping?"

Silence.

"Ed...Gar," Sig propped his forehead against the door, reminding himself to take two aspirins for his impending headache, "We can do this the easy way, the medium-to-hard way or the really hard way. The easy way would be for you to just unlock the door. The medium-to-hard way would be me searching for the skeleton key mom kept in her bedroom for occasions when you'd lock yourself in the bathroom and refuse to go to Kindergarten. The really hard way would be taking the door off its hinges and leaving you without a bedroom door for the next two weeks. Pick your poison."

"Or we can do it the Norwegian way," Norman called loudly from the top of the steps, projecting his voice throughout the house.

Sig turned around and gave Norm an exasperated look.

Norman sauntered around the wooden railing, down the hallway and approached the locked door. "I figured you might need some reinforcements," he murmured to his older brother.

"By all means," Sig waved his hand towards the door.

Leaning into the door, Norman called out, "The Norwegian way would be for me to kick the door down."

"So, anyway you slice it, kid, we're coming in," Sig yelled, "So just open the door."

The older brothers stood next to each other, questioning sideways glances between them.

"I'm sort of hoping he picks the Norwegian way," Norman rocked back and forth on the balls and heels of his feet and whispered with a smile as they waited.

Sig shook his head at his younger brother's devilish grin. "We'll be going with the medium-to-hard way first so don't get your hopes up," he whispered back with a slight hiss.

Norman was prepared with a snappy retort when his ears caught a hushed stirring coming from the other side of the door. He held up his hand, pointing to the door and put a finger over his lips. A second later, a click was heard followed by the squeaking of the bedsprings as the sullen occupant inside returned to the shelter of his bed.

"You wanted it unlocked," Norman made a grand gesture to the door. "He's all yours." The middle brother turned to leave, getting out of Sig's way.

"Where are you going?" Sig asked, as he picked the plate up off the floor.

Norman tipped his head to the side, "Downstairs." He hesitated. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Sig straightened up, giving his brother a firm glance. _I'm sure even the Tooth Fairy has helpers_. Without giving Norman time to answer, Sig opened the door with his free hand and walked into the darkness of the den.

Beams from the hallway light spilled into the room as he entered. A lump about the size of a taller-than-average, thirteen-year-old boy lay still under the covers, only the few locks of greasy, light brown hair peeked out from underneath. The room had a permeating odor of unwashed teenager and stale air.

"Edgar," Sig called softly as he turned on the lamp by the bed, "You need to eat something." The oldest brother set down the plate of dinner next to the alarm clock, observing that both Norman and Edgar's hospital bracelets were gone from their original home under the lamp.

Glancing around, Sig also took notice of Edgar's guitar, resting untouched since the young teenager sustained the injures to his hands. _How frustrating it must be to have so much talent and not be able to play a single cord? My poor brother. Jesus, I do pity him. _Another quick item Sig noted was the red notebook lying on the desk. The essay would be missing but the rest of the book had been returned to Edgar's room intact. _The essay was mine to keep._

"Whoa," Norman walked in after Sig, commenting on the malodorous aroma and waving his hand in front of his nose. He strolled over to the window and drew up the blinds. Cracking the window to allow in the much needed fresh air, Sig was going to remind Norman that the central air was still running but decided to let it go. _We may be here for a while._

The tranquil sounds of finches and cardinals seeking their last meal of the day wafted into the quiet room. The orange sunset cast a glimmer of fading daylight onto the carpet and a faint breeze blew in the scent of mom's flowerbed directly below the second story window. The bedroom took on a serene, peaceful feeling.

The only person not experiencing the summer evening's peace was the youngest brother still hiding under the duvet.

"You sure you want me to stay?" Norman mouthed, looking woefully down at the bulge in the bed.

Sig nodded, standing in the middle of the room with a fork sticking out of his back pocket.

Taking the desk chair by the handle, Norman picked it up and turned it around. He straddled the chair and sat down gingerly, still feeling a bit sore from his reminder of last night. Tilting the chair forward, he balanced the rail against the low footrest of Edgar's bed.

Finding a seat on the floor, Sig stretched out his long frame and leaned back against Edgar's dresser. The fork poked him in the back and he removed it, letting it rest on his knees.

Older brothers looked to each other, then to the silent occupant of the bed and finally back to each other. Apparently someone had to start this discussion. With a prompting nod, Norman deferred to his elder brother.

"Norman?" Sig asked.

"Yes, Sig?"

"Do you remember being thirteen?"

"Why, yes, I sure as hell do," Norman wiggled his shoulders proudly, "It sucked. Every time Molly Louise Carter walked past me in the hallway, I had to hide my textbooks in front of my pants because I couldn't seem to control…"

"That's not what I meant," Sig interrupted, he had no desire to hear about Norman's spontaneous erections. "I mean not knowing if you want to be treated like a kid or an adult. Sometimes you wanted to make decisions for yourself, without the adults in your life running the show for you. Other times, you just wanted someone to take over and make the hard decisions for you because you didn't know what direction to go in. I can remember it being pretty damn confusing."

"Confusing is a good way to put it, big brother," Norman agreed with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"I used to feel ashamed," Sig admitted, resting his head against the tall dresser, "that I still wanted to hang onto certain things I knew I should probably give up, like keeping a night light on in my room when I went to bed."

"Ummm," Norman hesitated, sensing what was coming.

"Or," Sig added brightly, "The stuffed animal you used to sleep with, Norm. What was the ugly thing's name?"

"Pooky," Norman grumbled, "And he wasn't ugly. He was just…old."

"Ah, Pooky," Sig smiled wickedly, fond memories of performing surgery and other such tortures on the beloved stuffed dog while a young Norman bawled his eyes out. "How old were you when you finally threw that thing away?"

_I didn't. He's still under my bed._ "Fourteen," Norman plucked a number from thin air.

The lump in the bed shifted slightly, an indication that someone was indeed listening, even if he was pretending not to.

"Pooky had a cousin, if I remember correctly" Sig looked over at Norman, "A stuffed teddy bear with one eye named…"

"Mr. Snuggles," Norman answered with a knowing smile, "Mr. Snuggles, the stuffed teddy bear that lived in the room next to Pooky's."

For the elder brothers, the discussion was a warmhearted trip down memory lane. For the youngest brother, it was mindless chatter to stir him from his solitude.

Abruptly, the bedcovers came flying off the bed with a single swipe. Edgar sat up, hair a disheveled mess and eyes blinded by the sudden bright light. As he put a hand up to block out the blinding brightness, he brushed the side of his injured face and winced out of pain and frustration.

"GO AWAY," Edgar said desperately, eyes screwed shut, "I don't want to listen to this crap." His bare chest heaved with infuriation.

"He speaks," Norman quipped excitedly.

Waiting a minute for Edgar to adjust to the light, Sig stood up and sat down on the edge of the bed. He grasped the end of the blanket and sheet so Edgar couldn't pull it back over his head, the fork he placed on the night stand next to the quickly cooling plate of dinner.

As Edgar lowered his hand from his face, Sig spoke plainly, "The point of this 'crap' is to let you know Norman and I know what you're going through." He looked down and touched the top of the bandaged hand lying next to him. "At least part of what you're going through." He looked back up, staring deeply into the angry green eyes in front of him.

"No," Edgar said pointedly, "You don't." He held up the injured hands for effect.

"Not true," Norman fired back, "Just last week, I was lying in bed relying on the two of you to help me up and down the steps and to feed me once in a while. I was just as helpless and as irritated as you are right now so I know exactly what you're feeling."

Edgar flashed a disgusted look in his big brother's direction. "What happened to you was not your fault, Norman. When an appendix breaks or whatever the hell happened, it's no one's fault. It just…happens. That's what Sig told me. This," he pointed to his bruised face and then held out his hands, "This…this is my fault."

"Alright," Sig gently cupped Edgar's chin, turning his attention away from Norman, "That's the last time I'm gonna hear that. For the final time, what happened to you at the Shack was NOT your fault."

"Sig.." Edgar started arguing.

"NO," Sig's voice deepened, "You're 13 years old. I know you want us to see you as an adult but the simple fact of the matter is YOU'RE NOT. You are just a kid, like it or not, and you were manipulated by evil thugs with no heart into doing things you would have never otherwise done because they blackmailed you into thinking you were protecting your family." When Edgar's eyes shifted downward, Sig tipped his brother's face back up. "Even an adult would have had a hard time with such an impossible situation. So stop blaming yourself and start blaming the people who did this…" Sig ghosted his thumb over the welt on Edgar's cheek, "…to you."

The gentle touch and look of pity on Sig's face negated his words and Edgar wiggled his chin out of Sig's grasp. "You don't get it," he pleaded, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face between them. The sleep pants he was wearing felt soft against his bruised skin and was the only comfort he was prepared to give himself.

"What don't I get?" Sig asked, proceeding to answer his own question, "That you started hanging out with the wrong people after mom died? That you were looking for a way to escape from all the sadness and loneliness in your own home? That dad checked out on us because he was devastated and Norman and I checked out on you because we were just as lost? Because you forgot the people in your family loved you?" Running a hand through his hair, Sig sighed, "Because if that's the case, then maybe you should start blaming dad or me or Norman…or mom for that matter."

Edgar's head shot up and Norman's eyes glazed over with anger.

Before his younger brothers had the opportunity to pounce on his implication, Sig hurriedly explained his position, "Ridiculous, isn't it? Blaming mom. But you," he gave Edgar an unwavering stare, "blaming yourself for all this is just as ridiculous to me. Mom didn't plan on leaving us. You didn't plan on all this happening to you. It just did. And like losing mom, we have to live with it the best we can."

"I can't, Sig," Edgar's eyes misted over, his lip quivering. He drew in a long breath and hugged his knees to his chest. Resting his cheek on the top of his knee, Edgar looked anxiously at his oldest brother. "Remember what I said about me almost running Norman over on my bike."

Norman tilted his chair back to the floor, curious to hear about a prior and private discussion between his brothers where he was apparently the sole topic of conversation.

Unfortunately for Norman's curiosity, Sig clearly remembered what Edgar was referring to. _The first time I spanked you, you nearly lost your mind over the guilt of almost killing your brother. You told me you couldn't live with it, you couldn't live with that much pain._ "I remember. And I remember telling you that you needed to let that go," Sig whispered to his youngest brother, a solid lump forming in his throat and threatening to constrict his airway. _Are these suicidal-type thoughts? Is that what you're trying to tell me?_

"I did let it go and I forgave myself. But I still ended up hurting my family again just a few weeks later. You were right that I put both of you in more danger by not telling the truth about Elliot coming to the house. And because of that, everything fell apart." Edgar confessed, "I feel like nothing is right anymore."

"How are things not right?" Sig asked gently.

Turning his other cheek to his knee, Edgar stared at the wall and whispered, "Stuff has come between us."

Sig's shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes, feeling like the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. _Lies have come between us_. _Secrets have come between us. A lot of lies and secrets have come between us._

Attempting to follow the conversation, Norman sensed there was an underlying meaning in Edgar's words from Sig's deflated reaction to them. Intervening hesitantly, Norman picked up the conversation on behalf of his floundering older brother, "Nothing can come between us."

_Nothing._ "Edgar," Sig shook off the dazed feeling, reaching out and settling a hand on his youngest brother's bare shoulder, "If things have come between us, it's only because you're letting them. You're pushing Norman and me away when you need us the most. That's not showing us how mature you are, only how stubborn you can be."

Shaking his shoulder, Edgar threw off Sig's hand. "I don't want you taking care of me because of something I caused. It makes me feel worse about everything."

Sig felt hurt by Edgar's rejection of the affectionate touch but tried he put his personal feelings aside. "So what do you want us to do? Let you starve? Let you smell like a homeless person because you can't get your hands wet?" He waited for an answer and only received a muffled huff and the back of his littlest brother's head.

"Your injuries are temporary," Norman explained, "You're hands will heal just fine in a week or so. The swelling around your eye is already starting to go down. By the time 4th of July rolls around, you'll be fine and all this will just be a bad memory."

Sig cricked his neck and turned to look at Norman with a glance that could only be described as cautious optimism.

Edgar heard his brother's words and wished with all his heart they were true. _A bad memory? Norman, you have no idea. I wish I could erase the memories, but I can't. They'll never go away. I'll never forget their faces as they kicked, whipped and beat me. The things they said…the way they touched me…I'll never forget that. And I'll never forget your faces when you looked at me for the first time and every time since. Like I'm pathetic. Like I caused this, brought this pain to my family…and it's true. That's what hurts more than my hands or face or back or legs._

Sig turned back to look at his youngest brother. "Can you please look at us? It's very difficult having a conversation with you staring at the wall."

"I hate the way you guys look at me," Edgar whispered, still contemplating the Robin's Egg Blue colored wall next to his bed.

Norman cleared his throat, "You told me that earlier today and I wasn't sure what you were talking about. But now I've had some time to think about it and I think I know."

Edgar looked over at his brother, a hesitantly hopeful expression that someone might finally understand how he was feeling.

Grateful for the eye contact, Norman now felt pressured to get his words out right and not blow the fleeting opportunity. "When I was in the hospital, you kept looking at me like your heart hurt inside because I was in so much pain. Sig had the same expression. At first, it bothered me plenty that both of you felt so awful for me. But I had to remind myself it was because you both love me and when I hurt, you both hurt, too. That's what it means to love someone. I'm guessing what you're talking about is that same look you both gave me. But it's not pity, Edgar. It's something else, something closer to empathy that we're hurting alongside you."

Speaking softly, Sig added, "Do you remember when you found Norman in the bathroom…because I do? You almost lost it because you were so afraid of losing another person you loved. Well," he swallowed, "we feel the same way about you. And how you look right now…the bruises, your hands, everything…is like having that feeling over and over again for us."

Edgar glanced at Sig, unimpressed by his brothers' analogies, "That doesn't help me feel any better." _It still boils down to cause and effect. Norman's condition was involuntary. Mine was a result of failure and misplaced trust_.

"I can't help you feel any better if you won't listen to a word I say," Sig blanched at his own words, "I can't take this pain away. I'd give anything if I could, but I can't."

"You already gave up enough," Edgar muttered, lowering his eyes and fiddling with the bandages on his hands.

_If this kid brings up that damn ring_… "You're right," After two weeks of love, tolerance and compassion, Sig finally lost his patience. It snapped as quickly as a rubber band and no one, not even Sig himself, saw it coming. "I gave up a lot for you."

Edgar look up, a little taken back by the words he never thought he'd hear his brother say.

"Yeah," Sig stared back hard, his eyes growing cold, "I gave up a lot when mom died. I gave up what little was left of my childhood and started raising my brothers on my own with dad's ever present judgment hanging over my head like a guillotine. And never once did I blame anyone or make you feel guilty about it. So I'm freaking done with you blaming yourself for what happened at the Shack. The day Elliot showed up at our house, you were faced with a decision. Well, you made the wrong choice. That led to some disastrous outcomes for everyone in this family but none more than you. You want to be an adult?"

Edgar's eyes started filling with tears.

Sig blatantly ignored the water pooling in his little brother's eyes, "Then man up and face the consequences of your actions. Hiding in your room, under your covers, is not facing shit. And neither is cursing, acting like a brat and pushing away the people that love you because you feel bad about yourself. Stop beating yourself up, learn from the mistake and move on."

"Sig," Norman said cautiously. _I want the pity party to come to an end, too…but not like this._

Sig glanced over at Norman and then back at Edgar, "I told you once that there were going to be times I had to sit back and let you make your own decisions, letting you face the consequences of whatever came from them, be it good or bad. But, I told you I'd always be there to either celebrate your success or catch you when you fell."

"Well, little brother," Sig straightened his back, "You fell. Hard. And I didn't catch you in time. THAT'S the look you see on MY face. It's the look of guilt and regret that I couldn't…that I failed. That's MY mistake."

"Is that why you didn't punish me for everything?" Edgar asked in a whisper, a tear slipping down his temple and landing on his knee.

"Is that what this is about?" Sig asked incredulously, not believing what he just heard.

Edgar sniffled. "Some of it," he admitted softly.

"I'm going downstairs," Norman tried to stand up but Sig raised a hand, waving it downward in an indication Norman needed remain. Slowly, he sat back down, feeling like an intruder and hoping he didn't need to intrude.

"Norman got punished for disobeying and putting himself in danger," Edgar explained softly, "I don't understand why I didn't. I did the same thing he did."

"Last night," Sig stated clearly, "I told myself I had to be fair to both of you, that I have to treat you equally. Well, it turns out, that's not the right way to handle it. Each situation is separate and unique and I'm treating them that way. Did Norman tell you he offered…OFFERED…to take any punishment I would give you on your behalf?"

Edgar lifted his chin and look at Norman, "Why would you do that?"

Before Norman had a chance to answer, Sig explained for him, "Because he loves you and he knew you were in no condition to be punished. Nor should you have been."

"And now?" Edgar asked.

"I still feel the same way," Sig said passionately, "What would punishing you accomplish? To show that I'm some heartless, inflexible bastard that can't see past his own dictations? If you're looking for some quick fix to relieve you of your guilt, I can't provide that. You won't find it draped across my lap with my hand to your backside this time. You'll only need to forgive yourself to find the relief you're looking for because I don't blame you for anything. I'm not holding you accountable for your actions because most of what happened was beyond your control."

"It looks like you're doing a bang up job of punishing yourself, anyway," Norman pointed over to the untouched, cold supper plate.

Edgar looked behind him and saw what Norman was referring to.

Sig reached up, cupped and turned his brother's face towards him, again forcing the eye contact between them, "I could never have punished you as bad as you're punishing yourself. You are always a thousand times harder on yourself than I could ever be. But take it from someone with a tiny bit of experience when it comes to recognizing when enough is enough. No more, Edgar," Sig stroked the side of his brother's face, "It's over now."

"It will never be over," Edgar whispered, "Not this time." He hiccupped, brushing Sig's hand from his face. "Every time you punished me, you always said that somehow you felt responsible. The first time, you cried and told me how sorry you were that you weren't around when mom died. You fixed it and things got better. The second time, you apologized for giving me the warning about smoking and regretted using the paddle on me because you said you would, promising only to use it again if I put my life in danger. You fixed it and things got better. The last time, you apologized for leaving the medication out on the counter and you took the responsibility out of my hand. You fixed it and things got better."

Sig had a strong feeling he wasn't going to like where this was going. He didn't have long to wait to find out how right he was.

"Now, I messed up big time," Edgar took a deep, shaky breath and pulled back his tears, "And you had to give up your ring to fix that. But nothing's gotten better this time. Nothing."

"NOTHING?" Sig stood up, staring down at his little brother like the kid had just lost his mind. The rubber band snapped back, cracking in half this time, no hope of repair, "You're here! You're safe! Those guys aren't gonna bother us anymore. You will heal from your injures and, in time, the scars and memories will fade. All things considered, how could it be better?"

"That you had your ring back," Edgar whispered.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE FUCKING RING!" Sig was close to screaming his head off trying to get through to his little brother.

"THAT'S A LIE," This time, it was Edgar's eyes that never wavered from his brother's face.

For the first time that summer, Sig had to restrain himself from slapping his youngest brother across the face, bruises and black eye disregarded. He rammed his fist into the pocket of his work pants and glared at his youngest brother.

The look on Sig's face told Edgar he had just crossed the line. _I take it back. I wanna take it back!_

The two brothers stared each other down with disbelieve and confusion over the odd turn of events.

Norman, hanging by tenterhooks, stood up and placed the chair back under the desk. "I think we're done here," he announced loudly. "Sig," Norman walked slowly over to his older brother, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and turning a stunned and furious young adult towards the door.

"NO!" Sig turned around and faced the truth along with his youngest brother cowering slightly in his bed. "You're right, Edgar," he pointed an accusatory finger in the kid's direction, "That ring meant the world to me. It was one of the last things mom gave me before she died. Do you want to know what she said to me when she gave it to me?" The hot tears started picking at Sig's eyes and loss of the treasured item finally hit home.

Edgar's mind started racing. _NO! No! I don't want to know. Please stop. This hurts more than any belt or paddle or bare swat ever could. I changed my mind. Go back to lying to me._

"Come on," Norman stood behind his oldest brother, speaking softly like he would to a toddler who was two hours past their nap time, "Not now, Sig." He reached out to grasp his brother's arm and lead him from the room. It turned out to be a daunting task.

With quick reflexes, Sig dodged the hand trying to hold him back. He took a menacing step towards the bed and Edgar slid closer to the wall. "She told me she waited her whole life to watch her oldest child graduate with honors from high school and it was going to be one of the proudest moments of her life to watch me…" Sig bowed his head, shaking and choking on the memories, "…to watch me walk across that stage and accept…my diploma." A sob escaped his lips and he lifted his eyes, tears streaming jaggedly down his face and dodging the stubble on his cheeks like a PLINKO chip. "But when that day came, she wasn't there. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to walk across that stage, look out into the crowd and NOT see her smiling back at me? All the homework, all the late night trips to the store to get poster board because I was too fucking self-absorbed in my own world to tell her ahead of time I needed it, all the essays she proofread for me, all the first days of school, all the…

"ENOUGH," Norman hissed loudly, wrapping an arm under Sig's solar plexus and holding him from behind.

Edgar went from gentle tears to full-on sobs in a matter of seconds, his body convulsing with the gut wracking gasps of desperate breath. _STOP!_

"I thought my legs were gonna give out as I waited for my turn in line." Physically, Sig was standing in Edgar's room. Mentally, he was reliving the events of what should have been one of his proudest moments. He could see the blue sky, the covered stage with his high school's banner fluttering in the breeze, the students in front of him wearing their dark blue gowns and red stoles, "I stood on that ramp and listened…Robert Gilbert…Linda Guinther…Kenneth Hale…I kept edging closer and finally it was my turn. In that moment, I wanted to say FUCK IT and turn around to leave. The one person that it meant the most too wasn't there to see it so what did it matter anyway."

Sig was grasping for breath, Norman about the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor. "The only thing…the ONLY fucking thing…that kept me from walking off the stage and leaving before I lost my mind was THAT… FUCKING…RING! It was like she was still with me, right next to me…instead of ten rows from the stage. It's was like she never left me. I kept twisting it on my finger, feeling the engraving inside with her name on it. I wore it for her. I wore it every day since she gave it to me FOR HER."

Norman was having a difficult time maintaining his own composure and keeping his brother from losing his mind in the current moment. He was openly crying himself, no longer holding Sig back or up, only hugging him hard from behind while his oldest brother's body shook with a barrage of strong emotions and painful memories.

By then, the youngest Hansen had slipped back down under the covers, burying his head and trying to block out the sound of Sig's angry voice. Sobbing under the blankets, he gnawed at what he could get of the knuckle exposed beyond the white wrapping and kept himself from screaming. _ I'm getting it back. I'm getting it back for YOU and HER. I swear to God I will._

"So, YES, Edgar," Sig stared at the lump that returned to the bed, his sight blurred from the water still gathering and falling from his eyes, "I lied. I lied about the ring meaning nothing because I wanted to protect your feelings. Because I don't want you to feel worse than you already do. But I can see there is no point. You couldn't possibly feel worse. And, you're right about something else. I can't fix that. I can't fix how you feel. You are just going to have to learn to live with the sacrifice I made to save your life. It's what mom would have wanted had she been there. She wouldn't have hesitated to rip that ring off my finger and hand it over to save her baby. And if I had to do it a thousand times, I'd make the same fucking decision each and every time to save my baby brother."

"Are you done?" Norman whispered angrily into Sig's ear, shaking his brother hard, "Because I think you made your point crystal clear."

Sig was not. "Kid, as much as that ring meant to me, it could not possibly mean more to me than YOU. But I did NOT make that sacrifice so YOU could spend the rest of your life walking around with knots in your stomach because you won't let the guilt GO. That would be the biggest insult you could give me. And I will NOT tolerate it."

Sig pushed away from Norman's grasp and pulled the baby tooth from his back pocket.

Ripping the covers from Edgar's head, he placed the last Hansen baby tooth under his brother's pillow, making sure his frightened brother could see what he was doing.

Sig leaned in.

Edgar whimpered, burying his face in the pillow.

Sig spoke sternly in Edgar's exposed ear. "You will not deny me this one thing because you think you're not worthy or to full of pride to admit you still want to hold onto what's left of your childhood. If mom were here, you'd pretend to humor her need to be the Tooth Fairy one last time, all the while soaking up her love and affection and secretly relishing in it. Well, I get the same respect so you fucking leave it there." Sig stood up, adding, "And you WILL eat your supper and get a bath. End of discussion."

With that, Sig pushed hard past Norman and left the room. Norman followed after him, stopping in the hallway and flinching when Sig slammed his bedroom door shut.

Standing in the narrow corridor, Norman listened to both his brothers' muffled crying and didn't know which way to turn. The sarcastic phrase 'that went well' didn't even enter his mind. He wiped off his own tears with both hands and shook the drips onto the floor.

_Supper_, Norman thought to himself. _Keep it simple. I'm a simple guy that likes to fix things. It's what men do…we fix things. This is why Edgar is upset. And why Sig is upset. We're a bunch of men who can't fix things. But I can focus on the immediate need first and fix that. The only thing I have control over right now is food. _

Returning to Edgar's room, Norman picked up the plate and fork without glancing at the sobbing boy in the bed. "I'll heat this up. For the sake of everyone in this house, yourself included, it would be in your best interest to come downstairs in ten minutes and eat." Without waiting for a response, Norman left Edgar's room and grabbed several towels from the linen closet on his way past. He stopped in the bathroom and retrieved the shampoo and soap from the shower.

Then he took the steps quietly and left the second floor, leaving behind the sounds of soft, deep masculine weeping from the right and a higher pitched sobbing from the left.

As he reheated a recently preheated oven, Norman contemplated suggesting to his dad that the family could use one of those popular microwave ovens he'd read about. _Dad might buy into one._ Taking less time to heat, the oven beeped and Norman slipped the tray and plate back into the oven. He went into the refrigerator and took out the Tupperware container that housed Sig's original dinner of pork chop, potatoes and carrots. Making up a second plate, Norman placed it next to the one already back in the oven. Then he set up the towel and shampoo by the kitchen sink.

In the quiet kitchen, Norman started to shake. _Sig's graduation day…My graduation day… _

As if fate had heard the earlier thought regarding dad and the microwave, the phone rang.

Norman picked it up, "Yallow."

"Don't you 'Yallow' me, boy," an angry father responded, "What's this I'm hearing about Edgar over the radio chatter between the boats?"

_Oh, SHIT!_ Norman gripped the phone in his hand. _Of course dad would hear about this. Sig told all his buddies, most of which have fathers currently fishing in Bristol Bay. Big mouth fishermen who can't keep their traps shut!_

"Umm,"

"NORMAN!" Sverre bellowed, "What is going on there?"

"Edgar got roughed up," Norman stood up straight, keeping his voice on even keel. "Some of the guys from the Shack came to the house and threatened him. He went back there because they blackmailed him. They accused him of stealing, which he did not, and they beat him up. Sig took him to the emergency room but he was OK. Well, mostly OK. He has a few bruises, a black eye and his hands…"

"Where the hell is Sig?" Sverre interrupted, "Put your brother on the phone right now!"

"I'm sorry, sir," Norman gulped, "He and Edgar went to the store. I'm home by myself." The middle brother felt a tingle cross his heart and backside at the bold lie. _Neither one of them are in any shape to get to the phone so hopefully God will forgive this little white lie_.

Sverre sighed with annoyance, frustrated with the situation and wanting desperately to rail at his oldest son for letting this happen.

Norman took the sigh as one of disgust that dad was stuck talking to him when he really wanted Sig.

"Did your brother call the police?"

"Yes, sir," Norman reported, "They came and took a statement. Sig told me they were going to keep a squad car around the neighborhood just in case and they're looking into the matter." _At least, they say they are_.

A muffled cough came over the phone "How is Edgar?" Sverre asked, sounding rushed. _If my wife knew about this…_

"OK, sir," Norman wanted to soften his tone but he kept it blank and unemotional, "Hurting a lot but he doesn't complain."

"And you, son?" Sverre asked quietly.

Norman closed his eyes and swallowed. "Fine, sir," he managed to get out, "I'm doing much better." _Just when I think my entire family…what's left of it, anyway… is falling apart, the Old Man finally asks me how I'm doing. I feel like someone just tossed me a life preserver right before I slipped under the icy waves_.

"What the hell is going on this summer?!" Sverre returned to form, "I need you and your brother to keep it together until I get back."

"We are, sir," Norman reassured his father. _Well, I'm keeping it together for now. Sig, not so much, but he's been carrying this responsibility on his own for the last few weeks so I can't fault him. _

"It sure as hell doesn't sound like it!" Sverre answered back sternly, "Sig is going to have a lot of explaining to do when I get back. You make sure you tell him that."

"I will..," Norman promised. _Just not right now_. "…but Sig has taken care of everything. He's working 14 hour days to make up for the time he missed when I was sick and Edgar was hurt. Sig even took me to the hospital and had to make the decision…"

"I want to hear it from him," dad said flatly.

Norman rested the defense of his brother, the jury was not listening, "Yes, sir."

"The boat's in bad shape," Sverre confessed unwittingly, like the weight of the burden had gotten to be too much, "She's going to need a lot of work after this season. That costs money, Norman."

_I know_. "Yes, sir." _So much for a dog or microwave oven_.

"I have to make this season work or…" Sverre didn't finish his thought, pausing and remembering to whom he was speaking. "I'd come home if I could but…" another thought left hanging in the air.

"It's OK, sir," Norman said gently, "We'll handle things here."

"I have to go," Sverre said in a hurried voice, suddenly uncomfortable with the soft tone of Norman's speech and the knowledge he had just shared too much, "I'll call in a week or two and let you know when I can come home."

"Good fishing, sir," Norman said, returning to his usual tone.

"Goodbye, Norman," Sverre said before hanging up.

Listening to the dead air, Norman whispered "Goodbye, sir." _I miss you._ Hanging up the phone, Norman caught a glimpse of his younger brother standing by the entrance of the kitchen. The young teenager looked worn out, eyes bloodshot from crying and tear stains on his face. He was still wearing his sleep pants but had donned one of Norman's old white t-shirts that sagged against his narrow shoulders. Feet bare, he crept into the kitchen, hesitant about Norman's reaction to his presence.

"Dad?" Edgar whispered hoarsely, the dry throat an aftereffect of his crying.

Norman nodded, pleased to see his younger brother had the wherewithal to come downstairs and eat dinner. "He asked about you...and what happened."

"He knows?" Edgar looked panicked.

Norman explained, "Yes, it seems most of the fishermen in Alaska know about it. You know how they like to talk over the radio at night."

Shuffling over to the kitchen table, Edgar sat down heavily, his shoulders slumped and resigned to his fate. His father was going to kill him. _ Just when I thought things couldn't get worse. _

Norman recognized the posture all too well. "He didn't seem mad at you at all," he said brightly. "He sounded really worried about you."

Edgar stared blankly at his brother.

"For real," Norman chirped before turning around and grabbing a potholder. He removed the tray from the open oven and placed it on the counter next to the stove. Picking up one plate with his bare hands, Norman slid it over to his brother and quickly pulled a fork out of the drawer. He put the fork against the plate and waited for something magical to happen.

Slowly, Edgar picked up the fork with his fingertips and stabbed a buttery new potato. He took a bite, wincing when the food came in contact with the tender hole in the back of his gums.

Norman caught the wince. "Please tell me you didn't eat dinner because you're mouth hurts."

"I'm not complaining," Edgar said without looking up.

"Saying something isn't complaining," Norman sighed, "I could have made soup instead of Shake-N-Bake. I guess I should have thought of that." Returning the second plate back in the oven, the big guy sat down on the padded chair across from Edgar. "Sorry. I'm not good with this stuff. It's been a long time since I lost a tooth."

Edgar only shrugged, managing tiny bites of his pork chop as he balanced the entire hunk of meat on his fork.

"Do you want me to cut it up for you?" Norman offered.

"Now you're gonna cut up my food for me?" Edgar quipped, "I can do that myself. I'm not a…" _baby. Don't say it._

To demonstrate the point, Norman stood up and took a sharp steak knife from the butcher block sitting next to the sugar and flour set. He positioned it on the table in front of his brother and stood straight, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "Go ahead. Cut it up yourself."

It was a clear challenge the younger brother wasn't about to let go unanswered. But when he tried, Edgar found that holding the ceramic handle of the knife with his bandage hand involved too much use of his striped palm and he slammed the knife down in frustration.

"Temporary, Edgar," Norman said softly, sitting back down, "Its only temporary. It's not worth getting upset about." Sliding the plate towards him, Norman made quick work of dicing up the pork chop and carrots into tiny, bite-size pieces.

"Are you gonna make me drink milk, too?" Edgar asked, frustrated with himself.

Unsure if Edgar was kidding or being serious, Norman quipped back, "Only with chocolate syrup."

"I'd rather have soda."

"Fine," Norman looked up from the plate, "You know where it is."

Pushing the chair back, Edgar stood up and walked over to the refrigerator. He helped himself to a can of root beer and sat back down.

Returning the plate of food to its rightful owner, Norman waited patiently to be asked to open the soda can. _ I'm getting a little tired of the lack of respect._

Reluctantly, Edgar slid the can of soda over to his brother and waited.

"I'm sorry," Norman dropped his chin, "Did you want to ask me something?"

Edgar curtailed the rolling his eyes and gestured to the can, "Could you please open this for me?"

"I would be very happy to open this for you. Thank you for asking," Norman put on his polite face and nodded his approval. He popped the tab and placed the can in front of his brother. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Staring down at the open can, effervesces of soda bubbles tickling his nose, Edgar whispered, "You can tell Sig I'm sorry."

"You'll have to tell him that yourself," Norman answered sadly, "I'm sure he'll have his own apologies to make." _A lot of them._

Edgar lifted his head and shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes, "No…he was right to holler at me. I should have never accused him of lying. It was one of worse things I could have done. Saying 'I'm sorry' doesn't even come close to making up for it."

_It's time to turn the ship around._ "Let's drop it for a while, huh?" Norman suggested, "Just eat and then we'll wash your hair in the sink."

"Do I have to get a bath?" Edgar asked quietly.

"You need one," Norman smiled, "But I think we can manage a sponge bath in the kitchen. The nurses in the hospital were verrryy good at giving sponge baths and I was a fast learner."

"I think I'd rather have the nurses," Edgar's lips broke into a half smile.

"What warm-blooded male wouldn't?" Norman agreed, "Especially the one with the long legs that went up to her…" He paused, remembering the age of the person to whom he was speaking, "…Doesn't matter. You're stuck with your older brother."

"You're the one that's stuck with me," Edgar glanced nervously in Norman's direction. "I'm sorry that I cussed in front of you at the store and that I acted the way I did when you corrected me."

"I'm sorry I didn't know how to answer your questions about why that was a problem," Norman propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands, "I don't seem to know the right answers like Sig does. But I know 'because I said so' is not an explanation so you were right on calling me to court on that one."

"I shouldn't have a called you out at all," Edgar chewed slowly on his bits of food, "Mom didn't like the cussing, especially out in public. I knew that. I just…"

"Keep going because I feel like you wanted to tell me something back there at the hardware store but stopped."

Swallowing, Edgar closed his eyes, seeking out the words, "I just want to be close to you like you and Sig are close. You guys are best friends. Neither one of you realize how close the two of you really are. I can see that from the outside looking in. The way you stand next to each other all the time, joking around, talking about girls, cars…all that stuff. You share secrets only the two of you know about. All that stuff you guys were talking about when you were my age, you went through together. I have to go through it alone."

"Edgar?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you jealous of Sig?"

Eyes flying open, Edgar's cheeks warmed from blushing and he looked off towards the kitchen window and out into the darkness. "Guess that sounds pretty stupid, huh?"

_Not in the least._ Norman pushed his chair back and away from the table. He crooked his finger over to his brother, not realizing just how much the little motion make him look like Sig. Then he patted his bulky, jean covered thigh and hoped like hell Edgar would give in to the non-verbal request.

Struggling with the renewed desire to curl up on his brother's lap and face the humiliating notion that it was a very 'baby-like' thing to do, Edgar stood up and walked around the table. He willfully sat down on the big thigh and let himself give into the strong arms that enclosed him in a tender hug. _ I need this right now._

_I need this right now_. "WE ARE CLOSE, Edgar. I couldn't do this with Sig. Never could because we're so close in age," Norman squeezed his little brother gently to his heart, nuzzling his nose against Edgar's temple, "I can only do this with you. That's what makes our relationship so special to me and I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, this stage of our relationship is evanescent."

Edgar looked up at the mention of the unfamiliar word. "Huh?"

"Evanescent. It means lasting only a short time and then it's gone forever." A sad sigh escaped Norman's lips, the thought of mom missing Edgar's teenage years resonating in his mind. _She would have been so proud to watch her baby become a man._ "Just be my kid brother for a little while longer and don't worry about growing up so fast. Someday real soon, we'll both be adults and then we can both drop the 'F' bomb every chance we get, talking about long female legs and what they're attached to and get drunk together at rowdy parties. We'll be best friends for the rest of our lives."

"The three of us?" Edgar asked hopefully, resting his forehead on Norman's shoulder.

"Yes," Norman laughed, "The three of us. But don't think just because you become an adult, Sig and I are going to stop being protective of you. I think that's just something you'll always have to put up with, same as me. God knows, we'll be visiting Sig in the nursing home and the first thing he'll ask us is if we both brushed our dentures that morning."

Edgar giggled and Norman was relieved to hear the sound again.

"And you're not going through everything alone so please stop thinking like that," Norman reassured his brother, "You're just lucky enough to have two big brothers than went through it and can share all our secrets…like how to use your textbooks for more than just studying the Civil War."

"Sometimes," Edgar leaned back and stared at Norman's blue eyes, "the wind blows a certain way and…"

"Yeah," Norman interrupted, "I know. It happens. But it'll get better."

"And sometimes," Edgar lowered his voice, "I can't stop staring at girl's…"

"Well," Norman nodded, "That'll probably never stop but you just get better at hiding it." He stroked Edgar's hair, noting the greasiness of the normally silky locks. "Come on," he said as he patted his brother on the back, "We'll talk some more later. Finish eating. You must be hungry." _Someone upstairs must be hungry, too, since he didn't eat anything for dinner_.

Edgar rose from his brother's lap and patted his bare feet back over to the table. He sat down and resumed eating quietly, realizing for the first time how hungry he was.

* * *

Without knocking, Norman opened the door to Sig's room and helped himself in. He didn't bother to find the light in the darkened room, the hallway light provided enough for him to see his big brother sprawled out, belly first on his bed and face buried in his pillow.

Leaving the plate and utensils on top of the dresser, Norman announced, "You didn't eat anything so I brought something up." Then he provided a report of sorts, hopeful it would ease the tension in the house. "Edgar ate supper. I washed his hair and we did the best we could with a bar of soap and a wash rag at the kitchen sink. He's watching TV in the living room for a while. Big Mariners game tonight."

"Is he OK?"

"Yes."

"I'm...so sorry...I don't know what happened..."

"I'm not the one who needs to hear this so save it for him."

Sig turned his head to the side and looked up at his younger brother, "Who called?" The shaft of light struck Sig's face, revealing red-rimmed eyes and blotchy skin.

"Dad," Norman said flatly, "He knows about everything."

"Of course," Sig muttered, closing his eyes against the light. "The minute I told Keith Colburn, I knew that would happen. The guy can't keep his mouth shut. How'd dad take it?"

"He was worried about Edgar," Norman explained, "I told him what happened and that everything is OK now." _Shit, I'm leaving a lot out but Sig doesn't need the added stress._

"He was pissed at me?" Sig questioned.

"Umm," Norman started inching towards the door, "You know how he is."

"He was pissed," Sig repeated, a flat statement this time.

"He'll get over it," Norman said as he headed out.

Sig suddenly stood up. "Wait," he said as he reached around and took out his wallet. Taking out a crisp dollar bill, he tossed his wallet next to the plate on the dresser and offered the money to Norman. "Give this to Edgar."

"Not a chance," Norman refused, "You're the Tooth Fairy, not me."

"The Tooth Fairy fucked up," Sig said sadly, sitting down on the floor and leaning against the bed.

"I don't know," Norman said slowly, walking back into the room. He picked the plate up off the dresser and put it in front of his brother on the floor. On his way back out, he turned on the lamp by Sig's bed and said, "The kid came out of his den and ate dinner. He let me wash his hair without whining. He talked to me a little bit and now he's watching baseball like a normal thirteen year old. I'm not so sure the Tooth Fairy did fuck up." Norman gave his brother a half-hearted smile of encouragement and left, shutting the door behind him.

Sig stayed alone in his room for the remainder of the night, wanting desperately to believe Norman was right but avoiding Edgar in case he was wrong. He ate quietly and listened to the sounds of his brothers getting ready for bed. A few whimpers were heard later as Edgar endured yet another changing of his bandages and Norman trying to lighten the situation as always, teasing Edgar about wrapping his entire head in the gauze like a mummy.

Still, Sig kept to his room until the house got quiet. Only then did he venture out to complete the necessary tasks that brought an end to another day he wished he could forget.

* * *

In the darkest hours of night, between 3:00 and 4:00 am, Edgar awoke with a start. He was sweating and his heart was racing in his chest. The nightmare was so real, he had to look around the room to confirm Elliot wasn't really there. The moonlight assured him the monsters were gone.

Still frightened, he turned and looked for a big brother, either one of them, to burrow himself next to until the images in his head when away.

Unfortunately, the other side of the bed was empty.

Pride had stopped him from rescinding his request to sleep alone and pride stopped him now from calling out for his brothers.

Snuggling against his pillow, Edgar slipped his hand under the soft cotton and felt a crisp piece of paper scratch his little finger. He pulled the paper out from under the pillow and was left staring at a crisp dollar bill left behind. He had never heard Sig come in or out of his room that night, such is the magic of the Tooth Fairy.

The tooth was gone. The dollar bill was left. It was the only interaction the two of them had over the course of several days but it was enough to carry Edgar through the nightmares while he slept and the nightmare of what was to come.

* * *

Tuesday morning, Sig was gone by the time Edgar woke up and didn't return from work until late in the evening. Edgar spent the day at the hardware store, quieter than normal but nothing like the day before. It was the best Norman could hope for given the circumstances between his younger and older brother.

Work ended for the day and, after the younger brothers arrived home, Norman made dinner and they ate together.

Around 7:55pm, Edgar drifted up to his room, claiming he was tired from the pain medication and shutting the door. _I don't know what to say to Sig. I'm so ashamed of myself for what I did and said and thought. And now I can't look him in the eye because it only makes me feel worse about what I'm about to do to him. I wish we could play cards but, in a way, I'm grateful he doesn't ask. I would only play under false pretenses, him thinking we were just having fun, me knowing I was scheming and honing in my skills. The only way I'm getting through this is to avoid my big brother until the time comes. Otherwise, he's likely to say something that would cause me to question my plan and I refuse to be wavered. I WILL do this…and I will make this right again. This time, I'm the one who has to fix things._

Sadly, Norman watched Edgar go upstairs but kept silent.

Sig came home at 8:00pm, ate dinner and made polite but sparse conversation with an overly detailed Norman. The middle brother made a point to highlight Edgar's helpfulness at the store and provide testimony that the kid had dinner and completed what chores he could. The only response Sig gave to the information was a nod of his head and a forced smile.

Claiming exhaustion, Sig then showered and retreated to his room, avoiding Edgar's closed door altogether. _I am utterly ashamed of myself and not ready to beg for forgiveness because I'm mentally unable to ask for it. I don't deserve it. All the promises went out the window – patience, compassion, respect – that is, all but one…honesty. I was honest. Brutally, knife-piercingly honest. I sharpened the blade and jabbed it right into his heart, no warning given so no opportunity for self-defense. I never told him it was coming. How do you go back from that kind of betrayal…how do you move on forward? Can you? All I'm doing is burying my head in my work, paying the bills and concerning myself with other adult-related issues as a means of escaping the pain. Essentially, I'm slowly becoming my father._

Hopeful, Norman watched Sig go upstairs but kept silent.

Then, Norman curled up on the living room sofa for three hours, reading his book and keeping an ear out for any movement between the two separate bedrooms on the second floor. By 11:00pm, he closed his book and rested it on his chest, recognizing the North and South would not be signing a peace treaty this evening. Although the war had been brief, it was brutal, intense and left the battlefield scared and bloody. Wounds had been inflicted on both sides and neither faction knew how to cross the fragile divide and make amends, deeply ashamed of themselves for fighting with their kin.

* * *

As Wednesday became a carbon copy of Tuesday, Norman sensed that the progress made between Sig and Edgar that summer had seemingly come to a grinding halt. Separately, he reassured them both, Edgar at the hardware store and Sig during his late dinner, that each brother was not mad or upset at the other about what was said or done Monday night.

Both brothers told Norman separately that they were aware of the fact, that it wasn't the other person, but themselves that they could not forgive. Then, they brushed Norman and his peacemaker party off with a wave of their hand and requested that he just give it time. All would be right in the end.

For Sig, the end was off in the distant future.

For Edgar, the end was tomorrow.

Once again, Wednesday night, Norman read distractedly on the sofa and prayed in vain that someone upstairs would be the first to step over the Mason-Dixon Line. When the grandfather clock chimed eleven times, Norman made a solemn promise he would initiate a brotherly intervention on Thursday evening come hell or high water. _Join or Die. Well, I borrowed that from the Revolutionary War but same concept applies_.

The middle brother was left changing the bandages on Edgar's hands three nights in a row, the process going more smoothly with each passing day. By Wednesday night, the wounds were starting to itch and Edgar requested the healing salve instead of shying away from its stinging treatment. The bandages had to remain on for another few days, Norman reminding Edgar that some of the wounds were still open and easily prone to infection.

* * *

When Thursday morning rolled around, Edgar started spinning his web, putting his plan into action. He feigned a belly ache, the first of many lies. Fortunately, the little brother had experience with this technique as his go-to method for avoiding school on exam days.

"My stomach hurts," he moaned as Norman tried to coax him out of bed, "Please let me stay home." He laid on his side and rubbed his belly for effect.

"It's probably from the pain medicine you're been taking every night," Norman leaned down and rubbed his brother's back over the covers, "No more of that stuff, OK? I don't think you need it anymore."

_I haven't taken it since Monday._ "OK,"

"It'll go away when you eat something, maybe," Norman offered.

"No," Edgar whined, "I need to go to the bathroom every few minutes. Please don't make me go to the store like that."

Norman shifted his weigh, debating with the issue of leaving a sick brother at home or risking Edgar getting ill on the way to work. It was getting late and he didn't have much of a choice. "Alright but you stay inside the house at all times. Keep the doors locked. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir." It slipped out, Norman sounding very much like Sig.

Norman grumbled, not surprised the little word slipped out as he had been the sole provider of care and guidance over the last few days. "What the hell did I tell you about that?"

"Sorry…yes, I'll stay inside."

"I'll call," Norman said in a hurry, leaning over and brushing Edgar's hair out of his eyes. Although the belly claimed to be painful, the eyes revealed apprehension and nervousness. He paused for a long second, peering into the green eyes.

Edgar held his breath.

The grandfather clock chimed eight times and Norman dismissed the look, chalking it up to being left alone in the house since the beating at the Shack. _Kid must be really sick to want to stay home alone_.

"Love ya, kid," Norman straightened up to leave.

"Wait."

"Yeah," Norman stopped.

"Let me say it back," Edgar shifted uncomfortably in the bed, acting a possible future and successful career. "You always run away before we can say it back to you."

Norman bowed his head, no snappy response when slapped with the truth.

"I love you, too," Edgar whispered, scanning his brother's chiseled cheekbones and long eye lashes.

With a nod of acceptance and gratitude, Norman bowed slightly and left the house.

Listening to the truck pull out of the driveway, Edgar hopped out of bed like a prisoner that had escaped his captors.

_Here goes nothing. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need all the help I can get_.

~tbc

a/n: That last line of inner dialogue is Edgar's…and mine as we venture to the close of this storyline.


	46. Knowin' What To Keep

As the summer day waned into late afternoon, Edgar sat outside the Shack, straddling his motorbike, and contemplated his plan. Rocking the Yamaha YZ 250 back and forth with his feet, he stared at his spare riding boots and wondered if he indeed had the strength and guts to pull this off.

_This is about to be the dumbest and bravest thing I will have ever done. What the hell was I thinking?_

Dressed in his best blue jeans, Sig's old black ACDC t-shirt and his worn jean jacket, the shaggy haired kid looked like he was going to be sick.

Staring at the building where this all started, the youngest Hansen looked around at the few cars parked outside. A black Mustang Norman would have loved sat among the few vehicles surrounding the backwater place. A 'Closed' sign hung on the front door of the bar and the empty quiet was deafening without the constant banging of blasting music coming from the adjacent warehouse.

It looked like a ghost town, like some scene Edgar once saw on an old western movie where the townspeople were lying in wait, scared off by some marauders threatening to take over the town for nefarious purposes. All it needed was a tumble weed bouncing across the wide open plain and the Magnificent Seven riding in on their white horses to set things right.

_But I have no gun, no white horse and no band of brothers to back me up. All I have is this suped up Super Cross bike, my meager poker skills and the love and respect of my brother to get back. But I need to make things right and there's only one way to do it._

Edgar had spent the better part of the day vomiting whatever food he attempted to place in his stomach. His nerves frayed, he felt like he was standing on the Northwestern in the middle of the raging Bering Sea and wishing the seasickness would leave his body. But the cold hard reality was that he was on dry land and the motion he was experiencing was the ever-present thoughts of what the men inside this building did to him.

Consequently, when Norman called to check on him around lunch time, Edgar felt no remorse in admitting his stomach was still bothering him. The older brother's advice was to drink some flat ginger ale and get some rest.

Between bouts of nausea and the strong urge for a cigarette, Edgar carefully rewrapped his injured hands and managed to make the bandages looser, exposing some of the still raw skin around the base of his fingers but increasing his mobility. Squeezing the bike handles on the ride over was excruciatingly painful but he used the hurt to take his mind off Elliot and his bastard friends. The pain was a motivation of sorts for him, a reminder of what they did to him and the reason for his coming back.

One hurt Edgar could not ignore was the note he left on the kitchen table at home. It was pure lies designed to distract his brothers and not have them come looking for him. As he wrote the note, he felt an eerie sense of déjà vu, like he had done this before.

Creating a bullshit alibi about going over to Matt's house for dinner and then to the movies with him and his mother, Edgar figured he bought himself some time.

_Time that had an expiration date._

_The poker tournament is tonight. This is my one and only chance to get that ring back and maybe a little money to help Sig pay the bills from the hospital. When it's all said and done, I plan on going home and facing the consequences of my actions with a peaceful heart. _

_Sure, Sig will be mad at first…REALLY mad…but the anger will fade. The ring he'll have forever. I'll deal with the loss of his trust, gaining it slowly back over time and everything will be right again. And sure, I'll get the spanking of my life and likely spend the rest of my summer restricted to the house but those things don't matter to me. The sting will fade. The summer will end. But my big brother will have his ring back and THAT'S what really matters. _

Never once did it occur to the young teenager that he could lose. _God took my mom so I figure that's enough loss for one lifetime. _

_Mom. She'd kill me if she knew what I was about to do. But she told me something once that I'll never forget. _

********Edgar's Flashback********

Summer 1982

An eleven year old Edgar sat alone on the park bench, looking forlorn and left out. It was yet another summer and the annual traveling carnival had rolled into town.

His older brothers had long past the age of attending carnivals and riding the Ferris Wheel with their friends. They were more interested in girls and hot cars and had elected to stay home that summer evening and hang on the telephone.

Therefore, Edgar had come to the carnival with his friends and mom tagging along behind them. When his friends excitedly ran off to the fun house, Edgar had claimed he had a rock in his shoe and sat down on the bench, calling after them to go on without him.

Now, as he watched them wait in line, he wished he had the courage to go with them. The spooky house looked like a lot of fun and none of his friends seemed the least bit scared. He, on the other hand, was terrified.

Just then, Mom had come upon him, walking back with blue spun cotton candy in her hand and a wide smile on her face.

"Hey there stranger," she said softly, "Fancy meeting you here."

Edgar looked up, giving her a weak smile.

As she sat next to him on the bench, she broke off a piece of cotton candy and handed it to her youngest son. "Where'd Matt and your other friends run off to?"

With a tilt of his head, Edgar gestured to the line in front of the fun house.

"Ohhh," Mom said slowly, drawing out the word as she studied the carnival ride, "You could go with them, you know? I don't think this one's that scary." She brushed her blond bangs out of her face, "Look, see the little kids are even going in."

A disgusted look crossed Edgar's face, "Mooomm. I just got a rock in my shoe. I needed to stop and take it out."

"And did you get it out?" she asked with a knowing smile. _I know you're scared. You haven't forgotten that awful experience when you were just a little boy_.

Edgar glanced down at his feet and shrugged.

Mom caressed the back of her son's hair. "So what are you waiting for?" she asked as she leaned back on the bench. Watching her son stare off at his friends, she struggled to find just the right words to say.

"I'm not going," Edgar announced flatly, sucking up his cotton candy and licking the sugary sweetness off his fingers.

"Do you want to go?" she asked quietly over the irritating and repetitive music coming from the Music Express ride.

Another shrug and a far off look were her only answers.

Squeezing her youngest son's thin shoulder, she leaned forward and asked, "Are you scared?"

"Yeah," was the whispered reply.

"Edgar," she whispered, trying to get him to make eye contact with her, "You can't spend your whole life letting fear stop you from doing what you want. If you do that, someday you'll look back on your life and realize all the things you missed out on, all the things you could have accomplished but didn't. Then you'll have nothing to live with but regrets and bitter memories. Sometimes, the thought of facing the fear is scarier than the fear itself and, once you get past the thinking and get to the doing, things turn out to be a lot better than you imagined."

The young boy turned and glanced at his beautiful mother, hope in his eyes that she was telling him the truth.

Laughing, she smiled and nodded. "Trust me, kiddo," she said softly, "I was scared to death about trying to raise three rambunctious boys on my own half the time but I managed. Look, where would you and your brothers be if I quit and said it was just too darn frightening?"

"Are we really that bad, mom?" Edgar asked innocently.

"No," she said with a chuckle, "You three are the best a mother could hope for, better even. Sure, I'd like Norman to stop getting motor oil stains on his clothes and Sig to let me know when he needs things for school before the day they're due. And for you to let me hug you in front of your friends." Edgar bowed his head bashfully. Mom ruffled the hair on his lowered head and said, "But I wouldn't change you boys for anything in the world. I wouldn't trade being the mother of sons for anything."

Edgar looked up into those sparkling green eyes, illuminated by the butterscotch candy-shaped setting sun. "I thought you wanted a girl?"

"I wanted you," she said firmly, "And you want to go with your friends." With a gentle push over the t-shirt, mom finished, "So go. Have fun. I'll be right here when you get back."

The young boy shifted his mouth sideways, mulling over his desire to go and fighting with the overwhelming fear. The smell of sweet cotton candy, buttery popcorn and his mother's flowery perfume wafted around his nose.

Mom leaned in and whispered, "If you get scared, just close your eyes and remember what I said. Then, open them and keep walking. Just keep walking."

_I'm gonna do this._ Despite his friends looking on, Edgar stood up, leaned over and hugged his mother. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, feeling her soft hair tickling his eyelashes.

"I love you more than you'll ever know," she whispered back, "I'll be with you the whole time." Then she watched her youngest son run up to the line and get in with his friends. There was the usual good-natured pushing and shoving about line cutting but Edgar stood his ground and went in.

When he emerged ten minutes later, the youngest son was laughing and goofing off with his friends, almost forgetting that his mom was waiting. He stopped and looked over at her on the bench, empty plastic cotton candy stick in her hand. With a brief wave at his side that meant a hell of a lot more than hello, Edgar pointed to the Music Express. Mom smiled, nodding and feeling exceptionally proud of her youngest son. _I'll have to try that line with Norman some time. Darn if that boy is still afraid of small spaces and spiders._

********End Flashback********

_I'm gonna do this. Just keep walking_.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, Edgar slipped them into his jeans jacket pocket. In his back pocket, he had hidden his good fishing knife, sheathed safely against the fabric covering his backside. _I'm not going in there without some kind of protection. They're not gonna hurt me again without a fight_.

_Just keep walking._

Standing on his own two feet, Edgar dropped the kickstand of the bike and got off. He walked towards the door of the bar, hesitating for a moment and looking back. The green and white bike sat in the glittering sunlight and his heart clenched at the thought of losing it. _Maybe forever_. He felt like he was leaving a beloved girlfriend and wondered if dad experienced the same feeling each time he left for a long trip to the Alaskan waters. _Mom used to cry when he left, trying to hide it from us and pretending like she was somehow used to the fear of her husband never coming home. But that's what she and dad endured to keep our family going. Damn, she was a brave, tough woman_.

_And I'm just as brave and tough_.

The youngest Hansen turned back around and proceeded to the front door of the bar. As luck would have it, the front door read 'Closed' but remained unlocked and Edgar opened it with a cautious bandaged hand.

As he stepped inside, the place was quiet and empty. The skanky bar had been cleaned up, the tables and bar had been wiped down and the floors scrubbed free of sticky beer stains, cigarette butts and peanut shells. The tables had been pulled out and even had fancy crystal ashtrays resting in the middle of each of them. The lights burned brightly, highlighting a fresh coat of paint on the walls and the place almost looked presentable if it wasn't for the permeating smell of stale cigarettes.

Taking three steps in, Edgar looked around and wondered if he had the wrong date or time for the poker tournament. A momentary sense of panic and disappointment kicked in, his heart sinking at the thought of missing his chance. Then, the back door to the office opened and Elliot peeked his greasy head out into the bar.

The thug stared hard at the young man, not believing what he was seeing. As he walked into the bar, dressed in black pants and a satin white button-down shirt, he flipped his ponytail back and shook his head. "Little man, do you have some kind of death wish?" he asked with a sneer.

Another one of his Samoan friends followed behind him, laughing, "Must. Kid crazy." The Samoan smiled wickedly, his English still not what it should be.

Edgar watched as several of Elliot's friends, the ones that abused him, filed out of the back room and found places to lounge in the bar area. Adam was the last one out of the office, a sad, strange look on his face. The youngest Hansen noticed Joe's absence immediately. It was obvious as normally wherever Adam went, Joe was sure to tag behind his big brother. For Joe not to be present at this important event was odd indeed.

The simple task of swallowing suddenly became difficult for Edgar. Staring at these men was more intimidating than he thought, causing him to falter in his resolve. _I just want to get out of here._ Forcing himself not to look away, Edgar blurted out in a timid voice, "I want my brother's ring back."

Elliot furrowed his eyebrows. With a confused look, he held up his right hand, revealing the gold ring with the blue stone from the SHS class of 1984. "You came all the way back here for THIS?" he asked, shaking the back of his palm at Edgar.

"Yes," Edgar answered simply, "It doesn't belong to you."

"Oh, but it does," Elliot grinned wickedly, admiring the blue stone, "It's mine now. A gift from your brother. Not to mention, around here, we don't take shit that doesn't belong to us. Just ask Joe." Looking up the ceiling, Elliot acted like he just remembered something. "Yeah, that's right," he snapped his fingers, "Joe's not with us anymore."

The sounds of evil laughter filled the bar, some of the men snickering to each other. Edgar didn't understand what was so funny but he did notice the only one not laughing was Adam.

Adam had a sick, pained expression cross his face before turning away and studying the back of the bar. _Elliot killed my little brother. He beat him with a tire iron over four hundred lousy dollars and left him to bleed to death. By the time I got to the back alley, Joe was dead. My baby brother had to go and brag to his friends that he pulled a fast one over on Elliot by stealing that fucking money. Dumb kid, never knew when to keep his mouth shut. I just found out too late. Elliot ordered his body to be disposed of, wrapped in black plastic bags weighed down with rocks and thrown in the river. I didn't even get the chance to give him a proper burial and lay him to rest with our parents. I'm living my life with more guilt than I can bear. Inside, I'm already dead. Now, it's just a question of do I use this gun in my pocket on myself or Elliot first?_

"So you see," Elliot turned his attention back to Edgar, oblivious to the danger he was in, "This ring belongs to me now. It's a trophy of sorts, a reminder that hard work gets you nowhere if you don't have the balls to back it up."

Edgar glared at Sig's ring, hatred seething through his veins. _**I wore it for her.**_

"And," Elliot approached him with a slow gait, "after the shit your brothers pulled the other night here, the only way you're getting this ring back is over…my…dead…body." As Elliot got closer, Edgar took a step back, crashing into the bar behind him.

Moving like a cat, his yellow-green eyes glowing, Elliot stood in front of the young man. He reached up and stroked the bruised cheek of the young boy with the back of his right hand. "Go home, little man. There's nothing here for you."

Feeling his brother's ring touch his face, Edgar flinched away. He closed his eyes. _Don't live in fear_. "If you won't give me the ring, then…" he said softly, opening his eyes and staring at the thug, "…let me play a few hands in the poker tournament. My family needs money to pay for my hospital bill." He held up his bandaged hands as evidence, silently laying the blame at Elliot's feet._ I know Elliot well enough to know that the more I push about the ring, the less chance I have of getting it back._

Elliot took a step back, "Are you nuts? These guys don't play for fun. This is the real shit. Where the hell would you get that kind of money, anyway?"

With a sigh, Edgar answered, "My bike. I'll sell you my bike. I know you want it. It's gotta be worth a couple thousand dollars."

When Elliot cocked his eyebrow, Edgar rushed on. "I have this paper," he said, fumbling around in his back pocket and producing a small, brown and white certificate, "I found it with my dad's important stuff. I think it's the deed or something to the bike." He gripped the paper with his fingertips and held it out in front of him. _It was buried in dad's desk. I had to search everywhere for it. It was kinda weird that someone moved that box from Jostens to the back of the drawer, though. Must be important._

Pausing and giving the young boy a long glance from his head to his toes, Elliot grabbed the paper out of Edgar's hand. He gave the document a once over with a careful eye and then turned back to Edgar. "You can't be serious," Elliot whispered. _That bike is one of a kind with the way it's rigged. Some future engineer must have suped that thing up because bikes like the 250 just shouldn't handle that way. Damn, I really do want that bike. I could make a fortune with that machine selling the technology alone._

"I am," Edgar said in an unwavering voice as he pulled out the keys to the bike and tossed them at Elliot. _And I know why you want it, too. Yamaha YZ 250 was the first bike to use the liquid cooling system but the motor runs too heavy for such a high profile bike. Norman found a way to realign the system and add some kind of flow value to lessen the weight. My big brother is a freaking genius. He should call Yamaha and make a fortune off the idea._

Elliot snatched the jangling keys in mid-air with his free hand. The room took on a hushed silence. The thug seemed to ponder the offer for a few minutes, looking torn and rubbing his hand over the keys. Shoving the keys into his dress pants pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and lit the lose tobacco flakes at the other end.

Edgar felt the gates opening. _This might work._ "You owe me this," he said flatly, gesturing to his bruised face, "I always did whatever you asked of me. I never ratted you out and I made you a lot of money this summer. All I'm asking for is a chance to help my family."

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Elliot asked, thumbing the paper in his hand and taking a drag of his cigarette. _Maybe I do owe him something considering I beat the shit out of him when it was Joe that stole the money all along. But I don't do anything without getting something in return. And this kid may be useful to me after all._

"I know how to play a little," Edgar said convincingly, "So what if I lose. What do you care? You get to keep the bike and I leave with nothing." _Come on. I'd beg if it would help my chances._

"Maybe so," Elliot said slowly, "But you need to do something for me."

Edgar hesitated. He would have done almost anything but something about the way Elliot asked the question made him shiver. "What?"

"Your brothers caused me a lot of shit coming down here and accusing me of beating up on a little kid in front of Mr. Moltisanti," Elliot stared down the young boy, "When our special guests arrive tonight, I need you to tell them it was all a misunderstanding. That you didn't know who beat you up but that it wasn't me and it didn't happen here. Tell 'em you were drinking with your friends and shit got out of control, too scared to admit to your brothers what you were really doing so you fingered me."

Now it was Edgar's turn to ponder the offer. He hadn't realized when he walked in the bar that there was something else up his sleeve, something Elliot needed as much or if not more than the motorbike. _He needs to be exonerated before his boss and I'm the only one that can do that._ It was the ace in the hole Edgar hadn't counted on and he quickly reevaluated his plan in hopes of getting to keep the bike and still leaving this God-forsaken place with everything he came for.

"Alright, I'll lie for you," Edgar said carefully, "On two conditions."

"CONDITIONS?" Elliot was astounded at the balls the kid was showing.

"Yeah," Edgar felt expansive, running with the advantage, "One, you 'hold' the bike as collateral, sorta like letting me 'borrow' the money and, if I win enough cash, you'll let me buy the bike back."

"Done," Elliot said simply, "You ain't got a chance in hell of winning so that's not a problem." _And I get to keep the bike and double up on my money because I'm not using my money. I'm using the money from the bar. Those guys will never know. _He folded the 'deed' to the bike and handed it off to one of his goons.

Edgar ignored the dig. _Go ahead. Get cocky_. "Two, I get to play at your table," he said softly, "You ARE playing, right?"

"Of course, you little shithead," Elliot spat out, "I've been preparing for this night for months."

"So I get to play against you?" Edgar asked careful. _This crazy plan only works if I'm challenging you._

"Fine," Elliot almost laughed, "I could use a little entertainment to lighten the mood before shit gets serious. And when you do lose my money, you'll be losing it back to me." He seemed to find a new level of appreciation for the kid standing in front of him. "Jesus Christ, Ed, I always knew you were a gutsy kid, doing all that crazy shit with your bike and hanging out with us but...holy shit…you got some balls on you."

The room tinkled with low, deep laughter. Edgar only stared up at Elliot and glanced around the room. _You have no idea._

* * *

A long hour later, Edgar and the thugs were still waiting for the arrival of their guests. Elliot had taken the 'deed' and keys to the bike and placed them in the bar safe located in the back office. While the safe was open, he counted out two thousand dollars of the bar's proceeds and handed the wad of cash over to Edgar.

Edgar took the money and nervously shoved it into his jeans jacket pocket. The weight of the money made the unrealistic situation suddenly seem very real. He'd never held more than sixty dollars in his hand at one time and that had been two Christmases ago when grand mom was too ill to go shopping for presents.

Keeping a low profile, Edgar sat on the bar stood in the corner and picked at the newly forming skin on his fingers. The goons were drinking, smoking and chatting among themselves. _KEEP MY HANDS OFF MY FACE! _Edgar reminded himself a hundred times as he stared at his injured hands. _It shouldn't be difficult to remember._ The white wrapping and itchy pain were both visual and tactile reminders that there is no skin-on-skin contact to comfort him anyway.

"Smoke?" Adam asked softly, holding out the open pack to Edgar.

The voice from behind the bar startled him and Edgar flinched involuntarily. He turned his head to the side and glanced longingly at the offering. It was extremely tempting for him at the moment; his nerves were fried and he just needed something, anything to take the edge off.

Adam gave him a half-hearted smile, glancing around to see that no one was watching, "You look like you could use it."

Bowing his head shamefully, Edgar used a fingertip and slid out one of the cigarettes. He placed the filter in his mouth, realizing he didn't have a lighter anymore. _Because I made a promise to my brother not to smoke anymore. Well, Sig made the same promise and look how that worked out_. Knowing it was just as much of a bullshit excuse as Sig used, Edgar felt a sharp pang of guilt. He was about to give the cigarette back when Adam produced a metal Zippo lighter.

As Adam leaned over to light the cigarette dangling from Edgar's mouth, he whispered quietly in Edgar's ear, "When Elliot gets nervous, he fucks with his hair." Then he clicked the lighter shut and walked away like nothing was said between them.

Edgar took the first drag of his smoke and blinked as the words registered in his brain. _Did that just really happen? Why is Adam trying to help me? Can I trust him? Guess I'll find out. And where the heck is Joe?_ The cigarette did its job, nicotine flowing through Edgar's lungs and bloodstream and bringing on a false sense of calm. He was halfway done with his smoke when the door to the bar opened, sunlight and fresh air pouring in and fighting fruitlessly with the lingering stank of the building.

Ten men walked in and, at first glance, it was clear that they were not from Seattle. All of them were wearing long, black coats and black Fedora hats in the middle of summer. They strolled in with purpose, like they owned the place and could do whatever they pleased. For as quiet as they were, their presence spoke volumes of power, money and complete control.

Elliot practically fawned over them, welcoming each with an ignored handshake and direct eye contact.

Mr. Moltisanti was the only one among them Edgar recognized. The rest were the kind of men that could stand out in a crowd or blend into the background depending on the situation. All of them except one.

One man in particular was dressed finer than the rest and elected not to remove his hat when Elliot and his goons took their coats.

Edgar carefully studied who he assumed was the leader from his perch at the bar. Unlike the 'Godfather' in the movie he once saw, this man was short, very thin and middle aged. He commanded respect and authority with nothing more than a wave of his hand. Edgar caught a glimpse of several rings, heavy encrusted with diamonds, and a large gold watch that took up most of his wrist. Wearing a full black suit and tie while his companions wore dress pants and silk shirts, the 'Godfather' as Edgar saw him, sat down front and center in the middle of the room.

Elliot attempted to walk over and greet the man in black but was blocked by several of the mobsters from getting too close. He stuttered from his place, "Mr. S, thank you for coming to see us."

Mr. S. waved Elliot off without so much as a glance. He seemed more interested in studying the bar, its surroundings and the men inside. He called over one of his associates and whispered something in his ear. The man then went off to search the place for something, checking under tables and in the back office.

Edgar wondered what the man was looking for.

Mr. Moltisanti noticed Edgar sitting at the bar and casually moved closer to Mr. S. He leaned over and whispered something in the leader's ear and the black hat tipped up, almost seeming interested in the information. At first, Mr. S said nothing. Then he spoke a few words in a foreign language to Mr. Moltisanti and again waved his hand.

Having a weird sensation the private conversation was about him, Edgar's heart stopped when Mr. Moltisanti stood up straight and looked over in his direction. The man motioned for him to come over. Edgar looked behind him and then pointed to himself as if to say 'ME?'

The dark man motioned again, curling his hand towards him with slight frustration.

The entire group saw the motion and turned all at once to look at Edgar with peaked curiosity.

The young man slipped off the bar stole, almost sliding to the floor, but managed to walk over to the 'Godfather' on lanky, trembling legs.

When Mr. S. noticed the hesitation, he waved Edgar over himself, pointing to the direct spot in front of him. Edgar bashfully complied with the order.

Mr. S. studied the young boy. He took a long, hard look at the boy's face and hands. "Who did this to you?" he spoke in perfect English, the faintest hint of Sicilian accent still present in his deep voice.

Edgar studied the man back. Despite the intimidating situation, the man had a kind face with furry eyebrows and deep brown eyes that were almost amber in color. Ed swallowed, listening to Elliot give a slight, muffled cough behind him.

Mr. S.'s expression held something close to pity, if he was capable of the emotion, "Come…tell me," he said softly, "Tell Uncle Jun what happened to you. How did you come by these injures?"

_You're not my uncle?_ With a sigh, Edgar gave the man direct eye contact, "Some of my friends and I were drinking my brother's good brandy. Things got out of control."

Uncle Jun's left eye brow went up, "This didn't happen down here?"

"No, sir," Edgar answered clearly, "My oldest brother would kick my ass if he knew I was drinking so I lied to him about where I was."

The 'Godfather' smiled broadly, "I had a little brother once. His name was Johnny Boy. I would have kicked his ass, too, if I found out he took my good liquor."

The group of men laughed. "Corrado, you kicked Johnny's ass for just looking at your booze."

"Enough, Puss," Uncle Jun sounded vaguely sad, "Don't speak ill of the dead."

The men all grew solemn, making the sign of the cross and muttering something in Italian.

Uncle Jun turned his attention back to Edgar, "You're sure of this?" The man seemed to doubt the information being shared with him. "No one is making you say this?" he asked as he glanced behind Edgar and into Elliot's direction.

"No, sir," Edgar responded simply.

_It's a lie. My informants with the police have already told me what happened and they believed this kid when he told them what those bastards did to him. Children are our most precious gift from God and only a low-life hoodlum would do this to a child. Still, the kid is protecting his leader and keeping his mouth shut._ With a smile of appreciation for someone who knew how to keep secrets, Uncle Jun said, "You got grande cuore, boy."

"What's that?" Edgar asked innocently.

"Big Heart," Puss said from behind his boss with a giant smile on his giant face.

"Stort hjerte," Edgar repeated softly in Norwegian.

"What language is that?" another one of the men asked.

"It's Norwegian, Feech," Puss said, "Don't you know shit?"

"How the hell am I 'pose ta know," Feech asked with a disgusted frown.

"It's a fishing town," Mr. Moltisanti said quietly, "They're all Norwegian around here."

"Dickie, don't be a smart ass," Uncle Jun admonished him. He looked at Edgar. "Why are you here, boy?" he asked, glancing at the young teenager's dirty riding boots and worn jean jacket.

"I want to play poker."

The bar broke out with laughter but Edgar's face remained impassive. He focused solely on Uncle Jun. "Sir, I have money. See," he stated as he removed the wad of cash from his jacket, "I sold my bike to Elliot so I can play. This is the only way I can get it back."

"Why, kid?" Puss asked when the laughter died down.

Uncle Jun glanced at the unimpressive amount of cash.

"Because my mom died…." Edgar innocently told the group the entire story, from coming home from school that cold day in January to the day his brother stopped talking to him. He recounted his father's needed expedition to the Alaskan waters, the bills pilling up on the bedroom desk, Sig giving up his chance to be co-captain for Salmon to take care of his younger brothers, the terrible start to the summer, Norman's appendix, the dentist and the hospital bills. He left nothing out but the ring and how he came by his injures. Those things he kept to himself.

By the time Edgar was done, he was facing eleven hardened gangsters with watery eyes that they quickly blinked away before the tears even came close to falling. This tale was no false sob story meant to toy with their emotions. It was plain to see the teenager before them was earnest, sincere and did not belong in a place like this. He belonged at home with his friends, playing baseball at the park and watching pretty girls walk by, carefree of life's demands and enjoying the summertime ease.

"So, I just want a chance to make things right for my family," Edgar said empathically, "I want to help them because a lot of what happened is because of me. This is my one chance, sir." He paused. "Please," he added sincerely, looking deep into the seasoned amber eyes before him.

Uncle Jun was clearly touched by the young man with a big heart. Still, a kid playing in an illegal poker tournament was a little more than he bargained for when he left the great state of New Jersey for a look at his west coast properties.

Elliot chimed in nervously, "I told the kid he could play me in a few hands." _ I can't let this kid walk out of here with 'their' money. They have to let him play so I can get it back._

"How much you got there?" Puss asked Edgar, blatantly ignoring Elliot.

Edgar swallowed, grasping the dollar bills in his bandaged hand, "Two thousand."

Feech snickered, "That wouldn't even get ya a seat at the table."

Looking down at the floor, Edgar felt his hopes fading. Elliot was more anxious than Edgar was and prayed they give the kid some kind of chance.

Holding up a flattened palm, Uncle Jun had made his decision. He spoke clearly, "A few hands, young man." He glanced at Edgar, "Just a few hands and then you're out of here. We'll modify things for a while. Make the antes more…reasonable. Anyone want to play with the kid?"

Puss lifted his large stomach up with both hands, "I'll play with the kid." His rotund face broke into a bright smile.

"Me too," Dickie added softly. _This kid got beat on my watch. I wish I would have been here but business called me away that night. But I was here to see the pain and heartbreak on his older brothers' faces and that's enough for me. Two thousand dollars is pennies compared to what I have and well worth the price_.

Elliot had to turn away to hide the relief on his face. He pretended he was looking for his cigarettes. _Shit, now I can keep the bike, TRIPLE my money and get rid of the kid. Little Ed did a good job of lying but he knows too much now. Better to tie up lose strings._ Upon hearing Mr. S's voice, he looked up.

"Good, good," Uncle Jun muttered, glancing hard at Elliot. He looked with disgust at the thug. "Set up one table. Get the cards and chips. And get me a DAMN DRINK!"

The place went into action, men running all directions and Edgar was left alone with Uncle Jun. The older man smiled with several broken teeth. Edgar nodded, "Thank you, sir. Thank you for giving me a chance."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Jun whispered.

_You're the second person to ask me that. Maybe I don't._ "So do I," Edgar admitted in a scared whisper.

Uncle Jun just laughed, ruffling the kid's shaggy hair.

* * *

Norman came home, barreling through the back door and anxious to check on his sick, little brother. He called out, "EDGAR!" loud enough that Old Mr. Steward likely heard him from next door.

No answer. _ Is he asleep?_ The house was so quiet, it was unnerving. As he stepped forward into the kitchen, Norman glanced down and quickly identified his little brother's handwritten note resting on the table.

**Norman,**

**My stomach felt much better this afternon. Must have been the ginjer ale. Your pretty smart. **

**Matt called. He asked if I wanted to come over for dinner and than to go to the movies with him N his mom. Hope it's OK. I forgot the number to the hardwear store so I couln't ask you.**

**I took my bike.**

**Please tell Sig I need to talk to him when I get home. Maybe he's not mad at me no more cause I ain't mad at him. **

**Love Ya**

**Ed**

**P.S. Dinner is in the refrigerator. I made fried fish by mysef!**

**P.S.S. Do you know of a companee named Jostens?**

_Oh God, Edgar, please tell me you're really at Matt's house. I should call over there but, to be honest, I don't want to know if you're not. I'm just gonna trust you on this._ Dismissing the small irritation that Edgar did not listen to his instructions about staying in the house, Norman had to admit there was no reason his little brother couldn't leave. _It's not like he was grounded. But he could have picked up the phone book and got the number to Pete's Hardware!_

Leaving the note on the table, Norman firmly decided that when Sig got home, he would be leaving out Edgar's minor disobedience in relaying the story to his older brother. _There is enough of a divide between my brothers right now without adding something so stupid to it. Sig doesn't need to know this time. _

_Edgar and I will discuss that separately another time._

_How does he even know about the yearbook people? I bet he was looking up ways to get Sig a replacement class ring. He's a good kid but he knows we can't afford that right now._

The middle brother went about heating up the questionable dinner left in the refrigerator, hoping Edgar's cooking skills had improved over the summer.

* * *

Elliot was floundering like the fried fish in the frying pan. He had underestimated just how good of a poker player Edgar really was.

After a few hands of Texas hold 'em, all of which Edgar won, Elliot realized he couldn't take the kid for granted. There was nothing Ed gave away in 'tells' when he had a crappy hand or if he really had a maker and Elliot had to concentrate hard on his own game to survive.

Puss and Dickie often folded when Edgar called, making no bones about their agenda. They were clearly on the kid's side and Elliot was out matched, feeling nervous and betrayed.

Catching a few lucky breaks and becoming reckless, the thug raised the pots high, pushing the gangsters to the limit. As Puss and Dickie had slowly 'lost' some of their money over to Edgar, their own chips dwindled and they got trapped on the ropes, hardly having enough for the ever increasing antes.

Finally, the mobsters folded to Elliot one at a time, sitting back and watching Edgar and Elliot battle it out.

After a few bad hands, Edgar was now behind on chips, Elliot's two to his one, and he was in a vulnerable position. _Just keep walking._ With the gangsters out, some of his confidence waned and he was left studying his opponent.

Adam's advice turned out to be correct. When Elliot was bluffing with a big pot on the table, he'd often flip his ponytail back or stroke the greasy hair from behind. The information was quite helpful considering Sig's ring on Elliot's hand was a monumental distraction for Edgar. _You fucking bastard. You have no right to wear that ring. NONE!_

Despite being angry and distracted, the young teenager kept his hands away from his face and his eyes locked on the cards to avoid seeing Sig's ring.

He examined each hand, weighing the potential hands of his opponent against his own for each flop, turn and river. All the while, he checked the two cards turned down in front of him and contemplated the bets. Texas hold 'em worked out well for him as there was no need to actually hold the cards in his sore hands. All cards, the ones shared in the community pile as well as his own, rested the entire time on the wooden table. And, it was his favorite version of the game. Sig usually hated Texas hold 'em because he could never beat Edgar at it. Five Card Draw was more his style.

A particularly lucky hand came Edgar's way and he felt it was his best chance of turning the tides. Landing two Jacks, Edgar watched Feech throw the flop. An Ace, A 10 and A 2 appeared on the table. _Shit, if he has an Ace, I no longer have top pair._ He bet cautiously. Elliot raised the bet. _Damn it, he's got it._ Edgar pressed on, praying for another Jack. When the turn card came out another 10, Edgar called and Elliot raised even higher, no flip of his ponytail. _No Ace. He's got the 10s, I know it. I should just fold right now._ Still Edgar called, seeing the raise. Feech shook his head and wondered what the kid was thinking.

When the river card came up, Edgar almost flinched. A Jack. Three of a Kind, Ace kicker. He raised and Elliot hid a confused look. _The kid's got nothing. He's trying to be strong._ He called the raise and Elliot revealed his three 10s. Edgar revealed three Jacks and took the giant pot. It was the hand that turned the tables for him, increasing his chip stack over Elliot and placing him in control of the situation.

Puss whistled low as the chips were counted, "Well played, young man. Three Jacks."

"I thought you were going crazy," Feech smiled as he reshuffled the cards.

Edgar shyly bowed his head, "Thanks."

Elliot sneered, lifting his upper lip in a distorted manner. "Lucky break," he muttered. Several of his goons whispered words of encouragement to him but he shooed them off with a string of cuss words thrown in their direction.

Uncle Jun simply tipped his hat in Edgar's direction. "Just a few more hands, young man. You've got more than you came with now so no sense in losing it." _And Mr. Neese is getting frustrated which can only end poorly. _

Adam walked over with a round of drinks, pretty little shot glasses full of clear, sparkling liquor. He placed the shots around the accompanying tables as the gangsters lounged back and watched the interesting developments taking place. The opponents were evenly matched in the psychological warfare, the young teenager standing his ground and fighting his way back into the game.

Returning to the bar, Adam designated himself bartender for the evening and giving him something to focus on other than his pure hatred for Elliot. He felt the weight of the gun in his back pocket.

* * *

Sig arrived home earlier than expected. Norman was lying on the sofa and watching Jeopardy!.

_I could play this_, Norman thought to himself, _I know stuff_. Hearing the back door open, Norman sat up and leaned over the back of the couch, hoping it was Edgar. When his blond big brother appeared in the doorway, he slunk back down. _Shit!_

"Yo," Sig said as he proceeded into the living, flopping himself down on the easy chair. He looked exhausted, hands dry and bruised and oil stains on his khaki pants. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his broad chest and sheen of sweat on his bronze skin.

"Yo," Norman glanced over and then turned his attention back to the TV, "You're back early."

"Fatal accident," was all Sig said, assuming Norman would understand the implications of his explanation, "Docks are closed tomorrow while they investigate."

"Anyone we knew?" Norman gave Sig a more intense glance, assessing his brother's mood and demeanor.

"No," Sig leaned back and closed his eyes, "Some new guy who didn't know what he was doing." _And he didn't deserve to die._ _I don't want to talk about it_.

"Oh," Norman muttered. _But it could have been you. Just another reminder of how dangerous your job is. Change of topics._ "You know, I'm already getting sick of the political ad campaigns. Every other commercial is 'vote for me' and 'the other guy is evil.' Voting isn't until November and Reagan's gonna win again anyway."

"Hmmm," Sig said softly, eyes still shut and half-listening to Norman's rant.

"Hey, you get to vote this year," Norman pointed out, realizing his brother's new right for the first time.

Sig shrugged, "I can vote, drive a car and serve my country but I can't have a fucking beer when I get home from work. How is that fair?"

"You can," Norman whispered cautiously, expecting Sig may get angry with him for making the suggestion. _Someone you worked with just died. Blow off a little steam, for Christ's sake,_ "Edgar's not home and I won't say anything if you do."

Sig's eyes flew open. "Where is he?" he asked in a rush, momentarily forgetting to remind Norman they were still both underage and promised not to drink this summer.

"Matt's," Norman explained, "Matt's mom is taking them to the movies."

"That reminds me," Sig said quietly, "I have Nick's money. I'll have to take it to him tomorrow."

"Edgar left a note," Norman added, grateful Sig didn't inquire into Edgar asking permission to go, "He also asked if I'd tell you he wants to talk to you tonight when he gets back." The middle brother passed on the information with what he hoped was a casual air, "I think there's a lot he needs to say to you."

_There's a lot I want to say to him, too, but the words keep getting stuck in my throat._ Sig said nothing, keeping his eyes closed and listening to his brother's words. In his heart, he knew the time for he and Edgar to talk about Monday night was long past due. "I'm gonna get a shower," was all he said before standing up and leaving the living room.

_Come on, Sig_, Norman thought as he watched his older brother slowly climb the stairs, _snap out of it. I need you to get your ass together and make things right with our little brother. I can't spend my summer having this much tension in my own home. _Norman returned to his TV program and vowed to hog-tie his brothers together before the night was over, forcing them to talk and work out their issues.

* * *

At the Shack, Elliot had four hundred dollars to Edgar's seven thousand, six hundred dollars' worth of chips.

The thug felt a premonition of dread. His hands were sweaty, his mouth dry and his entire body was standing on edge. He was utterly humiliated, the sneers and snickers cast in his direction were almost unbearable and the intense fear of losing not only his money but his boss's money was overwhelming. Completely losing focus, he made a poor call and bet half his money.

Edgar's heart was practically beating out of his chest. When Elliot screwed up, not realizing the community cards could be in Edgar's favor, he knew he had him.

"I'll raise two hundred," Edgar said softly, dropping the chips into the pot one at a time.

Elliot was faced with a decision. Go All In or fold. He had two pair but the kid was on to something, a possible flush lying on the table. _I only have two hundred left and I'll wait for something better._

"Fold," Elliot threw the cards down on the table.

Edgar smiled, collecting his winning. Feech picked up the kid's cards. Edgar had nothing. It was a stone cold bluff and the wiry mobster glanced over at the boy with a wink.

The next round of cards brought luck to Elliot's side. Two Aces. This is my chance. As soon as the flop went down, an Ace, King and Jack popped up and Elliot said, "I'm all in." He pushed in what little money he had left, assuring himself he could not be beat.

"Call," Edgar said flatly.

Since no more betting could take place, the turn and river cards were put out quickly. A 4 and 7 lay in the row of cards, unlikely helping either opponent.

"Whatcha got?" Feech asked Elliot.

"Three Aces," he responded smartly, flipping his cards over on the table.

The gangsters hissed and mumbled, seemingly disappointed Elliot was making a comeback. Three Aces in poker are pretty hard to top.

All eyes turned to Edgar. He looked down and simply flipped over his cards. A Queen and a 10. The kid made an Ace High Straight. And WON!

The bar erupted with good natured laughter, cussing and pats on the back for the young man. Elliot sat back in his chair dumbfounded. _I'm a dead man._

Before anyone had the chance to usher him out of the building, Edgar spoke quickly. "One more hand."

"It's over, kid," Puss laughed, "What? You can't get enough?" The gangsters laughed again.

"Everything I have," Edgar pushed the huge stack of chips into the center of the table and glared at Elliot, "Against that ring on your finger!"

Elliot thought he must be dreaming. _Eight thousand dollars against a stupid gold ring worth 1/20__th__ of the pot._ Feeling like someone extended him a hand out of his own dug grave, the thug sighed with relief. _Stupid kid. You're letting your sentiments get the better of you. Well, I'm not._

"Deal," the thug said with a grin, taking off the class ring and throwing it on top of the chip stack. In a way, he was glad to get rid of it now. _Perhaps the thing is cursed, bring me nothing but bad luck at the poker table. Maybe it's haunted?_

"JESUS CHRIST, kid!" Dickie hollered, "Are you demenziale?"

Uncle Jun stood up, "You're done, young man."

"With all due respect, sir," Edgar turned around and glanced at the group, "It's my money to win or lose and this is what I really came for." _Win or lose, I'm all in. _He looked back and stared at Sig's ring sitting on the top of the chips like a crown of gold. It was right in front of him. He could grab it and run for his life, never looking back and not caring about the money or his bike. He could trade the money for the ring and his bike back but that wouldn't help his family with the bills. And it was a stupid move anyway. He could have left with the money and used some of it to buy a new bike and a replacement ring. But the ring could never truly be replaced and how could he explain a new bike to dad.

Edgar could have gone in several directions but this evil man sitting across from him had taken enough and he was willing to take this one chance to come out a winner all around. _ Money for the bills, my bike back and Sig's ring. I want it ALL! That's the best I can hope for._

"Deal the cards," Elliot said quickly, "Let's switch to straight poker. Five card draw, no wilds. Make it interesting."

"Fine," Edgar said softly as he turned back around. Without the betting, Texas hold 'em was rather pointless.

"Stunada," the gangsters whispered.

Feech hesitated before dealing, looking over to Uncle Jun for direction. The boss rolled his eyes and nodded reluctantly. What did he care if the kid was crazy?

Five cards went to each player. The room took on a new level of tension. No one moved and the preverbal pin could drop at any minute.

Edgar looked at his cards. _SHIT! Nothing!_ Getting dealt a Queen, a 7, 4, and two lousy 3s, the youngest Hansen knew he was in trouble. _A Pair of threes ain't gonna help me. I could try for another, returning the others and hope for the best._ Yet, something told him inexplicably to hold on to the Queen. It was almost like someone whispered the direction in his ear. _Keep the Queen. _ He returned the 7 and 4. "Two," he said to Feech.

"One," Elliot smiled with a broad grin, pushing away the disposed card.

_He has something_, Edgar knew instinctively and his heart sank.

New cards dealt, Elliot continued smiling.

Edgar peeked at his two new cards. Two Queens. _Mommy? You're still with me?_

_I never left._

"A Flush," Elliot threw his five spades on the table.

"Told ya, kid," Feech muttered as he stared at the cards. The gangsters shook their heads, truly sad for the kid but hoping he learned his lesson.

All Edgar learned was he was never alone from the minute he walked into the bar. He turned his cards over. Three Queens. Two Threes. A Full House. Or, to poker enthusiasts, better known as a Full Boat! "I win," Edgar said simply, his eyes never wavering from his opponent. _That ring belongs to my brother. A gift from my mother. And she'd never let you keep it. _

Elliot looked down at the cards and back at Edgar. _This can't be happening. I couldn't have just been beaten and humiliated by some brat kid. These guys are gonna kill me when they find out I lost their money. I lost everything. My rep, the bike, the stupid ring, my money and, eventually, my life. You fucking little bastard. You're not walking out of here with everything and leaving me with nothing. I'll kill you first._

"Kid, you got some steal balls," Jun said with a smile.

Edgar took the ring off the table and hurriedly placed it in his jeans pocket. The circular ring felt wonderful against the skin of his hip and he experienced a warm, fuzzy feeling like someone was hugging him tightly. As he started collecting the chips, Elliot stood up.

An odd, contorted expression pinched the thug's face and pulled out his handgun, pointing it directly at Edgar's chest.

"No FUCKING way," Elliot said with a strange voice as he squeezed the trigger.

Edgar didn't even have a chance to look up.

A gun shot rang out in the quiet bar.

~tbc


	47. Every Hand's A Loser

**Warnings: Violence, death, blood, language**

* * *

As the shot rang out, Edgar looked up and into the barrel of a .22 pistol. Time seemed to stand still for him and everyone else in the bar.

_I've been shot?_

The youngest Hansen waited for the pain to catch up with the bullet, grabbing his chest and viewing his short life flash before his eyes. Edgar's mind raced through images of his brothers laughing together, his mother's gentle touch, and his first kiss with the pretty blond, along with other such meaningless events that suddenly seemed to be the most important things in his life. _I don't want to leave._

As Edgar was reliving his life in under ten seconds, his sub-conscious was horrified at the sight standing directly in front of him.

The initial look of revenge on Elliot's face turned gradually to shock and confusion. He truly believed he had time to fire his gun. _Why else would I have been thrown backwards, crashing into the wall behind me? It was the recoil. Wasn't it?_ _How could this kid still be breathing? _ Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Adam standing behind the bar and holding a smoking gun pointed in his direction.

Adam had a blank stare on his face and his finger firmly around the trigger. _Why'd you think I stayed with you after you killed my brother? Did you think it was out of some loyalty to you and this fucked-up gang? If you did, you forgot blood is thicker than water. I stayed and pretended like Joe never mattered to me so I could have THIS moment. And I'm not allowing you to kill another child like you murdered my brother. He was just a 17 year old kid. So you can go to hell and tell the devil I sent you_.

It wasn't until he peered down that Elliot spotted the red liquid pouring out of his heart and staining his silky white shirt a sickeningly cherry color.

In an involuntary reaction of self-preservation, Elliot shifted the position of his gun to the right, over Edgar's head and fired at Adam. With a squeak, Edgar flew underneath the table before the gun could be pointed back at him. Adam hadn't moved from the bar, the desire to watch his brother's killer die before his eyes too tempting to overcome. He took the bullet through his own chest, piercing him just below his heart and lodging itself in his left lung.

Adam collapsed behind the bar, a soft moan escaping his lips. Elliot started to lose consciousness and slid sluggishly down the wall, releasing the gun to the floor and putting a lengthy blood smear on the fresh, new coat of paint as the life seeped out of him.

From Edgar's vantage point under the table, he found himself eye level with the dying thug falling to the floor. Although death had become a significant part of his life over the last half year, the young teenager had never seen someone actually die. It should have been a peaceful process. Instead, it was simply tragic.

Elliot gave two shallow breaths, his yellow-green eyes glazing over as he glared at the kid who took everything from him. Pure evil, he stretched for his gun and his last thought was to take the kid with him.

Sitting in the chair above Edgar's head, Puss kicked the gun away from Elliot's reach and the thug whimpered in defeat. Resigned to his fate, he slumped over and closed his eyes. He was dead in under a minute. His last thought: _I should have folded one more time._

Elliot Neese was 22 years old when he died. Tragic, but no great loss to the world.

The other hoodlums scurried out of the bar like oversized rats. If not for the unfortunate circumstances, several large Samoans running through the building would have been a comical sight.

Everyone else still seemed frozen in place until Jun leaned over the poker table.

"Stupido," Jun said with disgust, slapping Feech on the back of the head, "I told you to search the place."

"Oww," Feech grabbed the back of his head, "Boss, you didn't tell me to search these assholes, just to look around."

"Shut your mouth," Jun hissed. _I work with morons!_

Dickie maneuvered around the bar, now out of sight of his friends. His voice called out, "This one's still alive. You want me to finish the job, Jun?"

A soft gasp from under the poker table stopped Jun from giving the answer he really wanted to. _Poor Kid._ "Jesus Christ. Why do I get stuck with all the fucking messes?" Jun seemed to be muttering to himself.

Calculated decisions already made, Jun directed his authoritative gaze over at Feech and said quietly, "Call 911. Tell 'em to send an ambulance. Then call the Chief and tell him I need him down here right fucking now." As Feech scrambled from his seat and into the back office, Jun let out a long string of curse words in Italian, finishing in English with, "And could someone get that kid from underneath the table."

Edgar's eyes were still locked on the dead body, the blood still streaming down Elliot's white shirt and staining the polished wooden floor. The young boy was trembling, his stomach rolling heavily and, if there had been any food in it, he would have vomited all over Puss's expensive Italian leather shoes.

The large man with the large face leaned down to look under the table. "Kid," he called softly.

Edgar did not respond to the soft voice.

Being a robust man, it took Puss a few seconds to heave himself off the chair and kneel down on the floor. He called again, this time reaching out and putting a firm hand on Edgar's neck, "Kid, come with me."

The touch snapped Edgar out of his trance and he turned petrified eyes to the mobster. He gagged, a dry, heaving sound and looked pleadingly at the giant face peering back at him.

"Good. Look at me. Don't look over there no more," Puss said, breaking into a wide smile, "Venire, venire." Carefully but firmly, he guided Edgar out from under the table, encompassing the shaking teenager with his plentiful girth and blocking his view. Nonchalantly, Puss picked up the teenager like a toothpick and carried him over to the steps leading up to the loft and facing away from Elliot's dead body.

Setting Edgar down on the third step, Puss sat next to him, putting his arm around him and squeezing gently. Edgar was finding it difficult to breath, gasping in small breaths and trying to block the sight from his mind. _ What the hell just happened? I just wanted the ring back. How did it come to this? I don't understand._

The mobsters began simultaneously, and without direction, flying into action like a choreographed dance routine. Within minutes, the poker chips and cards were gone. Guns were locked away in car trunks. The booze and glasses were disposed of. Tables were put back in their rightful places. Someone even turned on the jukebox. When Kenny Rogers' The Gambler started to play, the jukebox was wisely turned off. A few of the gangsters had to leave as there were warrants out for their arrests in federal court so the place started to empty out.

The only thing the gangsters didn't touch was the dead body lying on the floor. They prudently stepped around the pool of blood, careful not to leave any bloody footprints in their wake.

Feech's voice could be heard on the telephone, calling the Chief first, then 911. _Jun's not thinking straight. We don't want this guy to live. He knows too much._

Jun stood in the middle of the storm, shaking his head and cursing his bad luck. _Feech is right for once, _he thought as he listened to the phone conversation._ This hoodlum behind the bar can't live. Of course, people die in hospitals all the time, especially before talking to the law._ Crafty as he was, Jun immediately started scheming on how to spin the situation of Elliot's murder to his advantage. _I didn't get to be Capo for nothing. Now I can close this place down and do what I really want with it. DiMeo won't question my decision on this any longer. First, I have to do a little housekeeping. _ He wondered over to the steps, stopping in front of Puss and Edgar.

"The boy?" Jun asked Puss, glimpsing in Edgar's direction. The teenager dressed in the ACDC concert shirt two sizes too big for him looked pitifully misplaced among all the death and carnage.

"Pretty shaken up, Junior," Puss answered, squeezing Edgar's shoulder over his worn jean jacket.

In shock, Edgar wondered why these two men were talking about him like he wasn't even there. _Maybe I'm not. Maybe this is just another bad dream and I'll wake up any minute._

"Puss, I want you to take him home," Jun said with authority.

"No problem, boss. Ed?" Puss whispered in his ear, "You're gonna be OK. Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"My bike is here," Edgar said in a hazing voice.

Puss seemed confused, "Do you want me to follow you home?"

"Uhhh," Edgar rubbed his head with his sore hand, "The keys…the keys are in the safe." He looked up with innocent eyes, "Do you know the combination?"

Jun and Puss shook their heads. Jun threw his hands up, "This place didn't have a safe when I…ah...acquired it. Must have belonged to that bastard." Puss offered quickly, "I've broken into a few safes in my time. Might take me a while but I can do it."

"Or Patsy could hot wire your bike," Jun looked over and realized Patsy was already gone. _ Damn Patsy, always with the narcotics charges._

"I don't think I could ride right now anyway," Edgar muttered as he rubbed his temples, his hair brushing against his fingertips. _Why does my head hurt so badly?_

"Well then Puss can take you home and we'll hide your bike in the woods," Jun was getting desperate to move the kid out of there before the cops showed up.

Edgar shrugged his shoulders. _I'll need the keys and 'deed' back eventually. Dad will wonder where it went. After all the trouble I've gotten into this summer, he'll probably sell my bike and he'll need the papers to do it._ "The police will break into the safe and, when they do, they'll find my dad's ownership papers to the bike. They'll know I was here and I could get into more trouble." _ Trouble... God, I am in so much trouble._

"Then listen to me, young man" Jun leaned down to scrutinize Edgar in the eye, "This is important, now, so listen carefully. Are you listening?"

The kind amber eyes and furry eyebrows snapped Edgar out of his state. He nodded slowly, becoming aware of the unyielding tension surrounding his head like a tight rubber band.

"Good, son. When the cops get here, we were just having a friendly game of poker. A…FRIENDLY…game. NO money was exchanged. You came down here because you thought you could make some money for your family but, it turns out, there was no gambling going on. While you were here, a heated argument took place between those two guys and it was NONE OF OUR BUSINESS. It got ugly and they shot each other. That's the end of the story."

"But, sir…"

"No, no," Jun stood up straight, taking a large wad of cash out of his leather billfold. Hundreds of 100 dollar bills in his hand, Jun grabbed Edgar's jacket and tried to shove the money inside his pocket, "This is close to what you earned tonight. Hide it in your boots and take it home."

Edgar took the money back out of his pocket and stared longingly at the cash. For a moment, he hesitated. Then, looking straight at Jun, he handed the money back. "Sir, I can't take this. If I do, then I'm lying to the cops and my brother said that's not OK. And if the story is that we were just playing for fun, then that's what really happened. If I keep the money, then I'd be lying and I just can't do that."

"Christ, kid," Puss exclaimed, "Just take the cash. There's like 5 or 6 thousand dollars there. You earned it. Use it to help your family."

"I can't" Edgar said disappointedly, "What I was doing was illegal. I didn't even think about that until now. And you guys could get in a lot of trouble if the cops knew what I was really doing down here." He thrust the money into Jun's small hand, "I'm sorry, sir. Sorry for all the trouble I caused you and your friends."

"Are you for real?" Jun whispered through clenched teeth before squeezing his hand around the money, "All that's happened and you're worried about US?" With a disbelieving shake of his head, Jun seized the money back and situated it in his billfold. _I'll make this right for you somehow._

A soft groan was heard from behind the bar. "ED," Adam choked out.

Dickie looked up from over the bar rail, "He's calling for you, kid."

"You leave him be," Jun called back, not addressing either Dickie or Adam directly and letting the command stand.

"PLEA…pleasssse," was Adam's desperate broken voice.

Again, his head popping up and down over the bar like a meerkat looking out of its burrow, Dickie glanced over the bar in Edgar's direction.

Edgar went to stand up but Puss immobilized him with a strong hand, "You don't gotta go over there."

"It's OK," Edgar looked woefully back at him, saying simply but with determination, "He saved my life and I'd like to know why."

Puss allowed him up with a frown and Edgar stood up on wobbly legs. Feeling strangely lightheaded, he stumbled slightly forward and Jun caught him, steadying him before releasing his hands from the young man's shoulders. Regaining his balance, Edgar offered the 'Godfather' a brief, half-hearted smile and walked with trepidation and small cautious steps over to the bar.

Peeking over the rail, Edgar could see Adam lying on the floor, flat on his back and staring up at the blue and yellow stained glass bar lamps. Dickie was kneeling next to him, attempting to slow the bleeding coming from Adam's chest with an old dirty dish rag.

Finding his courage and ducking under the swinging bar flap, Edgar knelt down next to Dickie and tried not to look at all the tacky blood pool already gathering on the floor. The thug had his hands over his chest, covered in his own blood and his breathing was becoming more labored with each passing minute. He turned his head and looked over at Edgar with glassy eyes.

"You…OK?" Adam asked.

"Yes," Edgar responded, nodding his head, "Why? Why'd you…"

"Joe."

"What about Joe? Where is he?"

"Dead…Elliot…ki..kill..himm."

Edgar covered his mouth with his hand and gulped back the bitter bile rising in his throat. The white wrapping around his hands was starting to come lose, a piece of gauze dangling down his wrist.

Adam reached up, his hand covered in his own blood and touched the bruise on Edgar's face. "Sorry," he said as he ran his hand over the teenager's injured face, neck and white bandaged hands, referring to the need for the apology, "Can you…" he started choking on his own blood, a little trickle of ruby ooze running out of his mouth.

"He ain't gonna be long, Feech," Dickie screamed from across the bar and into the back room, "He's choking on his own blood."

"They're on their way," Feech yelled back dispassionately, still on the phone with the dispatcher, "About two more minutes."

"I don't think he has two more minutes," Dickie muttered to himself, sitting back on his heels.

"…forgive me?" Adam's eyes started to get heavy and his hand dropped from Edgar's face and onto the floor with a thud. Blood began filling his lungs and cutting off his airway.

Someone else's blood now on his face, neck and hands, Edgar stared at one of the evil men who abused him and didn't know how to answer. _The priests at church always say to turn the other cheek and forgive those who've trespassed against us. And this man saved my life just a few minutes ago._ _But he hurt me so badly…_

"Ed," Dickie said in whisper, "It's now or never. He's going to hell anyway so don't think this is gonna make a difference."

_Maybe not to God but it does to me_. "Yes," Edgar bent over and whispered in Adam's ear, "I forgive you." He grabbed Adam's hand and clutched it tightly. A quiet, peaceful relief washed over Edgar's body and he knew he made the right decision. _Now, I can let this go._

With a slight nod that he heard the forgiveness, Adam closed his eyes and sighed peacefully, a slight smile on his lips. _Joe? _ He gripped Edgar's hand back weakly, then he was gone.

Adam was 19 years old when he died. Tragic, but not alone.

"He's dead," Dickie said with finality, removing Edgar's hand from the dead man's hold. He made the sign of the cross, the motion a direct contrast to his earlier words, and put the dirty dish towel over Adam's face.

The mobster stared at the young thug whose life ended too soon. He started rambling absentmindedly, "I was called away on business the night you were beaten up." Dickie's voice was barely above a whisper, aware that he was about to say too much to Edgar. _I need to get this off my chest._ "Jun is looking at turning this place into a logging company and I was meeting with our investors that night. I heard rumors, of course, afterwards. Elliot was bragging about some kid taking money and getting what was coming to him. I didn't realize what happened until your brother came down here and confronted Elliot and his gang. He accused him of beating you up and sending you to the hospital. I told Jun before he got here and he talked to his friends at the station. I guess they told him about your statement. Jun knows the real score…what they really did to you."

"He knows I lied?" Edgar asked, half listening and focused on the second dead body he'd seen in one night. _I never realized people have so much blood inside of them._

"Sure he does," Dickie smiled, "But he's not mad. What they did… Well, I don't think I could have forgiven 'em." Dickie glanced down at Adam and back into Edgar's green eyes, "You do have a big heart. I hope my son, Christopher, has a heart as big as you someday. He's about your age now. I don't see him much."

_There's just too much blood_. "I need to get out of here. I think I'm gonna be sick," Edgar muttered.

"PUSS," Dickie called the big man over, "Take the kid outside, will ya?"

"Sure thing. Come on, kid. Let's go outside and have a smoke. You smoke, don't ya?" Puss was laughing as Edgar rose to his feet, ducking back under the bar again. The big man put a hand around the teenager's lanky frame, "Cause if ya don't, you may want a cigarette anyway."

The sounds of sirens were growing ever closer.

* * *

Edgar sat on the closed dumpster lid located around the side of the bar. His face, neck, hands and best blue jeans were stained with someone else's blood and Puss stood next to him, the big man sweating like a geyser in the fading summer sun. It was close to 9:00pm but the daylight in June never seemed to end. Somewhere in the recesses of Edgar's mind, the odd thought dawned on him that he was going to miss his curfew.

Puss offered him a smoke but the young boy declined, his hands still shaking so badly he didn't think he could hold the cigarette between his fingers. The large man tried cheering him up with funny tales about New Jersey drivers and the ridiculous swim wear the old, saggy ladies wore on the Wildwood beaches.

Faking a smile or two, Edgar thought Puss was a lot like his brother, Norman. Always finding a way to crack a joke in any situation. _I want my brothers._ The thought made Edgar's eyes fill with unshed tears that he had to push away.

When the police arrived, Puss stayed close to Edgar. The coroner and ambulance arrived, although only one of the two services was truly needed by the time they got there.

A lovely, curvy blond officer got out of her patrol car along with her partner. She scoped out the scene, immediately recognizing the young boy sitting around the side of the bar.

"Mike," Officer Markley said, getting her partner's attention and tossing her blond head in Edgar's direction.

Officer Rowe shook his head with disbelief, "That kid! And after all he's been through down here. Will he ever learn?"

"I'll go talk to him," she said as she closed the car door behind her. Officer Rowe went into the bar behind the Chief of Police as Officer Markley went off in a different direction and approached the youngest Hansen.

When she got to him, her beautiful green eyes stared compassionately at the shaken and stark-faced young man. "Edgar?" she asked softly.

Edgar had watched her walk over to him, reminded again of the similarities between this woman and his mother. "Ma'am?" he asked with a look of fear that this woman was potentially about to haul him off to jail.

"Are you alright?" she asked sweetly, placing a gentle hand on the kid's back.

The soft touch and female voice was more than Edgar could handle._ I miss the high tones females have. All I mostly hear now are men's voices._ His eyes filled up with tears and he mumbled desperately in a childlike way, "I want my brothers." The plea sounded so sincere, the young female officer's heart clenched and she nodded quickly.

"Alright, love," Officer Markley said soothingly, "I'll go call them. They'll have to be here anyway when we talk to you. Can you remember your home phone number?"

As Edgar bobbed his head up and down, a tear shook free from its friends and slid down his cheek. He relayed the numbers as his long term memory took over while his short term memory wanted to shut down and take a vacation. The officer wrote the phone number down on her flip pad.

"Sir, will you stay with him for a minute?" the lovely officer asked Puss, "And is there a phone in this place I can use?"

"For you, doll, anything," Puss flirted shamelessly with the officer, always an admirer of the female flesh despite the overly large amount of his own, "Phone's in the back office. I'll wait with the kid."

"It's Officer Markley, not doll," the policewoman glared intimidatingly at the sweaty gangster.

"I'll call you whatever you want if you'll call me Big Daddy."

"Oh for the love of God," the officer said disgustedly, knowing she'd have to get accustomed to this kind of sexist treatment in her line of work if she wanted to survive. _I even get it from my own male co-workers_. She walked away before she had a chance to say something unprofessional.

Proceeding through the door of the bar, Officer Markley glanced around and assessed the crime scene. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened. Two dead bodies that once faced each other and two guns equaled some kind of shootout between the two.

Walking cautiously through the bar, she took notice that the Chief was hobnobbing with Jun as his police officer's took pictures, secured the weapons and interviewed the other gangsters left in the bar. _Figures our illustrious Chief knows these guys from 'out-of-town.' I'm sure whatever the story is, that's exactly what it will be: a story. And the Chief will buy it hook, line and sinker…BUY being the opportune word. _

When she located the back room, Officer Markley shut the office door and settled down at the desk. Popping open her note pad, she picked up the phone and dialed the numbers.

* * *

Showered and dressed in his old comfortable sweats and clean white t-shirt, Sig watched the Mariner's game with Norman.

Watching baseball wasn't really his thing. He'd rather be out playing ball than watching it. Growing bored, Sig studied Norman and realized that between the appendix, sore backside and long hours of work, he hadn't taken the time to annoy his little brother lately.

He gingerly shoved Norman in the shoulder when he wasn't looking, a sly smile crossing his handsome face. The two of them began pushing and shoving each other for more space on the sofa, laughing and reverting back to their early childhood despite their ever-maturing ways.

_No matter how old I get, when I'm around Norman, I always act like a kid._ Smiling at the thought, Sig relaxed and tried to forget about the death at work as well as the conversation he'd been putting off with Edgar. He simply acted like the big brother he was, participating in one of his favorite pastimes by annoyingly pestering Norman as he tried to enjoy the game.

When Sig stuck his bare foot in Norman's face for the fifth time, the little brother had enough. "Alright, you're asking for it." The muscle man flew off the sofa, taking his big brother by surprise and hurling him to the floor.

"Shit," Sig screamed with a laugh as Norman slammed on top of him, "Watch the coffee table."

"Fuck the coffee table," Norman said as he rammed it out of the way with his hip, still holding his brother to the floor with his muscular arms. "Stop messing with me and let me watch the game, ass."

Sig used the distraction of the coffee table to flip Norman over on his back, pinning him to the carpet and squeezing him around his head. _ I really missed this. I miss this all the time, now. Hell, if mom were here…_

Norman was initially stunned at how easily Sig got the better of him. _Geez, two weeks of not working out and I'm already turning into a cream puff. _

The impromptu wrestling match had begun and the brothers acted like two teenage boys left home alone, tussling on the floor and defending their male pride. Between laughing and cussing, they battled back and forth without really hurting each other. The battle could have gone on all night, short breaks in between for drinks of water and random talking about their day. Instead, it ended with a phone call.

Each locking the other in a headlock, the ringing of the telephone caused the brothers to pause in place. On the second ring, it was a mad scramble to the phone sitting by the TV.

When Norman got there ahead of Sig, he picked up the phone and his oldest brother jumped on his back, attempting to knock the phone out of his hand. _Even who gets to the phone first has to be a competition._ "Yallow," Norman said as he gasped for air, laughing and still pushing Sig off his back.

"Mr. Hansen?" a sexy female voice asked on the other line.

"Which one?" Norman gathered himself together, catching his breath and growing sober, "And who is this?" He pushed Sig harder this time and gave him a glare that read 'this could be serious so playtime is over.'

"Who is it?" Sig asked as he dislodged his arms from around Norman's waist and stepped back. _I don't like the look on your face._ An eerie premonition crossed Sig's heart and he shuddered.

"This is Officer Patricia Markley of the Seattle Police Department."

"Ummm…you'd be looking for Mr. Sig Hansen," Norman said quietly, turning around and looking at Sig with a questioning stare. _She could be calling for a date or she's calling because there's trouble but, either way, this call ain't for me…thank God. _ He handed the phone receiver off to Sig and whispered, "It's Officer Markley calling for you." He mouthed 'The Hot One?' with wide blue eyes.

A short but audible inhale escaped Sig's throat and he didn't know if he should be excited to talk to the pretty cop or pretend he ran off to Alaska. With a cautious hand, Sig took the receiver from Norman's grasp. "Hello."

"Mr. Hansen?"

"Yes?"

"This is Officer Markley. I came to your house this past Saturday with my partner, Officer Rowe. Do you remember me?"

_How could I forget? The way your hips filled out that uniform…I've dreamt about you almost every night, a pleasant distraction to block out all the pain my family has been through in the past few weeks._ "I remember." _PLEASE be calling me for a date. I know it's technically supposed to be the other way around but I'm a liberal guy. It IS the 80s, after all_.

"Mr. Hansen, there's been a double homicide at the Shack. Your brother is here…"

Sig felt his knees growing weak and he grabbed onto the brick fireplace mantel for support. His suntanned face turned the color of wet plaster and he could literally feel his heart pause for an entire three seconds. He made a noise, almost like a soft choking gasp but no carbon dioxide came back out of his lungs. "Oh My God," he whispered. _Edgar? Is he dead? Did he take revenge into his own hands? Oh my God, please…_

Norman, who was standing to Sig's right, didn't take long to realize something terrible had happened. The strange pallor on his brother's face and the pure terror in his blue eyes told him that the woman on the other line was not calling for a date. _Edgar? What's today? Thursday…just a regular old Thursday. Please let it just always be a regular old Thursday and not a day or date I never want to remember because it will have painful meaning…just like January 17. Wasn't something happening today? Nick said something about this Thursday when he was here last Saturday_.

The policewoman explained in a calm but hurried voice, "He's fine, Mr. Hansen. Edgar is fine. A little shook up but otherwise just fine. I think he may have witnessed the shooting but he seems unharmed. He's asking for his brothers."

_He's asking for his brothers_. Something about the statement made Sig wish he had a jet instead of a Trans Am so that he could fly down to the Shack in record time and, even then, it would not be fast enough to satisfy him. Of all the long rides he had made to the Shack, the first time to drag his little brother back home, the second to save the same brother's life and finally to confront the bastards that almost took it, this upcoming drive would be the longest.

"How soon can you get here, Mr. Hansen?" the soft female voice asked.

Sig gulped down the lump in his throat. Firmly, he responded, "I'm already there."

He hung up the phone and crashed into Norman as he tried to get out of the house, bare feet and all.

"What the hell is going on?" Norman said, holding his brother by both shoulders and shaking him once or twice, attempting to remind Sig of his presence. The oldest brother seemed to forget there were other people in the world besides him and his sole desire to get to the Shack so that he could hug and/or strangle his youngest brother.

Sig pulled away from Norman, only to look him in the eye with a confused expression, "Edgar's at the Shack."

"What?" Norman took a step back, utterly dumbfounded.

"You heard me," Sig glared at Norman, anger taking over for a brief second, "You told me he went to Matt's."

The oldest brother took off to the kitchen, Norman following close behind him and defending his case. "That's what the note said."

Although they were always in the same place, Sig couldn't seem to remember where he left his car keys. He paced around the kitchen, searching strange places like the refrigerator and utensil drawer. As his mind froze like a seized car engine, his mouth and movements grew more active and bordered on hysterical, "What the fuck, Norman? I thought he went to work with you. Didn't he ask you if he could go to Matt's?"

Norman watched his brother search around the kitchen in his bare feet. _ What are you looking for, your shoes?_ _I can tell you they're not in the refrigerator._ Standing still, he tossed his hands up in the air, "He was sick to his stomach this morning. He didn't want to go to work with me. By the time I got home, he was gone. Why the hell did you think he left the note? I TOLD you he left a note."

Sig slammed the utensil drawer shut, causing a loud bang and the metal clattering of spoons, forks and knives. Finally looking up at Norman, his blue eyes raged with irritation, "I don't fucking know, Norman. Jesus Christ, I thought maybe you dropped him off to start dinner and then ran to the store or something. Fuck, didn't you think about calling over there to check on him? He was supposed to be sick, remember?"

"NO," Norman whined loudly, "Yes…Maybe. I don't know."

"Didn't you even think it was the least bit weird that he drove his bike over there with his hands the way they are?" _I need my wallet. God, why can't I remember where my keys are?_ "What the hell is wrong with you?" Sig pushed past Norman hard as he made his way out of the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs.

Again, Norman followed his frazzled brother around the house. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and hollered up, "I forgot about his hands, OK! Sue me if you want. You didn't seem to remember, either, you know. And I don't care if you're pissed off at the way I handled things today because I'm fucking pissed off at the way you've handled things since Monday! Now, can you please tell me what the fuck is going on? Why are the cops calling us?"

"Don't fucking start with me about Monday!" Sig screamed at the top of his lungs from his bedroom to the downstairs. The brief release felt good, like a pressure valve had been open to decrease the rising panic. _Shoes! Where are my shoes?_ Sig hastily slipped on his Nike sliders.

"SIG," Norman projected his voice throughout the house, "I'm not trying to start anything with you. I just want to know what's going on and you won't stop and tell me." As the loud voice started to crack, Norman croaked out, "I'm…I'm scared, Sig." _The cops are calling, Edgar's at the Shack, you're getting all upset…what's happening?_

Finding his wallet, Sig heard the loud confession and closed his eyes for moment. _Get it together right now because BOTH your brothers need you and this is no time to fall apart_. Shoving his wallet into his sweatpants pocket, Sig turned and headed down the hallway. Taking the stairs two at a time, he came to the last step and stopped.

Looking Norman in the eye, Sig realized just how much his hysterical actions were frightening his brother. _Take a minute…calm down…Norman's just as freaked out as I am._

"Listen," Sig said, softening his tone, "Edgar's OK." He put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder, "I'll explain what I know on the way over there but our little brother is fine."

Norman sighed with relief, surprising his older brother by grabbing him by the waist and squeezing him into a brief hug. "Sorry," he mumbled into Sig's stomach. Since Sig was standing on the last step, he had even more of a height advantage over his shorter brother.

Sig put both his arms around Norman's shoulders and back, pulling him tightly against his flat belly, "It's OK. You're right. I haven't handled anything right lately and I've dumped a lot of responsibility on you because I was feeling too guilty to talk to Edgar. I'm sorry for taking this out on you. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I…I…" Norman stuttered, hesitating to make the situation worse, "…trusted him."

"So did I," Sig leaned over and whispered in Norman's ear, "And I'm not sure I want to hear the explanation. But, right now, he's in some kind of trouble and he's asking for us."

"Us?"

"Yes, both of us," Sig said softly, pulling away from Norman and adding, "He's asking for his brothers. Plural. And since we're the only ones that fit the bill…"

"I'm guessing the bike's down there, too" Norman logically drew the conclusion that if Edgar was gone and the bike was gone, they'd both be together, "We better take the truck. And maybe I should drive. You can do the talking."

"I may be blond but I can drive and talk at the same time," Sig walked away and headed into the kitchen, Norman still following him around.

"Still…" Norman went straight for the truck keys on the hook.

Sig watched him and had to wonder why the hell he didn't think to look there first.

"I think I should drive," Norman jingled the keys in his hand and opened the back door. "TV's still on."

"Leave it. And the lights." Sig was clearly not himself yet, "Maybe I should call Nick and…"

_Edgar asked for his brothers. BROTHERS. Not Nick! Man, I'm starting to even dislike that guy's name. THIS time, I'm going with you, not the 'always has an answer and solution for everything' Nick!_ "Let's go," Norman said disgustedly, then a thoughtful expression crossed his face, "Nick…Hey, Nick said something the other night about today, Thursday. Do you remember that?" The middle brother held the back door open, motioning Sig out of the house with a wave of his keys.

Sig looked around a final time, making sure at least the oven was turned off before they rushed out of the house. He was barely listening to Norman and his mutterings about Nick and Thursday. It wasn't until they got in the truck that Sig's brain registered what Norman said.

"What were you talking about with Thursday?" Sig asked from the passenger seat.

Norman checked the rear view mirror and put the truck in reverse, backing out of the driveway, "Nick said something big was gonna go down at the Shack this Thursday. What the hell was it? Something about company coming?"

_Thursday? Mike at work said something about Thursday, too. The 'boss' was coming in and there was a… _ Sig glanced down at his hands, gripping the fabric of his sweatpants between his fingers. He whispered in a hiss, "The poker tournament…" Stopping his words, he looked over at Norman's profile and waited for his brother to come to the same dreadful conclusion he just did.

Norman's hands squeezed the steering wheel till the knuckles turned white and his jaw flinched as he mashed his teeth together. "You don't think…?" he glanced quickly at Sig and then back to the road.

"I do," Sig said with a sigh, "I think Edgar went down there tonight to play poker." _I cannot FUCKING believe this!_

"No freaking way," Norman shook his head, "He doesn't have any money. Where on Earth would he come up with that kind of dough?"

"But he has a bike…" Sig said as he stared out the passenger side window. _It's the only possession Edgar has that's really worth something. But he loves that bike. He wouldn't give it up._

"He'd never do that," Norman said with certainty. _You know the hours I've spent working on that bike? _"So did the cops raid the place tonight?"

"If they did, it was only AFTER the double homicide," Sig glanced over at Norman and observed the color drain from his face, "He's fine, Norman. He didn't get hurt. But, apparently, that's why they need us to come and pick up Edgar. The cop said he may have witnessed the shooting." _And, likewise, how close was he when the guns started going off? _ The oldest brother felt his stomach slam violently to his knees.

"Who, Sig?" Norman spoke softly, "Who got shot?"

"I don't know," Sig answered back as he stared off into the distance. As he watched the trees go by, the more civilized world disappeared and the truck took the turn off the main road, "I guess we're gonna find out." _ Oh, kid, what have you gotten yourself into?_

* * *

As Edgar waited, Puss drifted off with his fellow mobsters and he was left alone. Officer Markley must have gotten assigned another duty because she didn't come back. Edgar watched several of the gangsters being interviewed, laughing and seemingly entertained by the pointless questions. They acted as if this sort of thing happened every day of their lives.

_Maybe it does_, Edgar thought as he kicked at the dumpster with the back of his heel._ My head is killing me…bad choice of words. Those gun shots were sooo loud…_

When the familiar pick-up truck pulled into the lot, Edgar's heart jumped in his chest. _They're gonna kill me. I dodged a bullet…literally… only to get strangled by my older brothers. But I need them so badly right now._

Sig and Norman were astounded at the sight beyond the windshield glass. The place was full of police cruisers, the Chief of Police's car, the ambulance, the coroner's van and a hearty dose of high end vehicles Norman could only dream of owning someday. Police officers meandered around and there was a steady stream of comings and goings from the propped open bar door.

"If I ever have to come back to this place again," Sig grumbled, "I'm burning it down."

"Might want to wait till the cops leave," Norman responded as he shut off the truck, "That would be arson."

Sig shot him a sarcastic look, silently grateful Norman was with him at this moment.

The brothers exited the truck and closed the doors behind them. Glancing at each other over the hood of the silver Ford F150 XL, they both looked at each other to confirm they were really here and not in some strange dream where they were reliving the past. At the same time, both brothers sighed, turned and proceeded towards the Shack.

Along the way, they were stopped by a dark man with blood under his fingernails and a familiar face. Dickie had spotted the Hansen brothers and managed to disengage himself from the cops as he wandered casually over to block their path.

"Hello," Dickie said simply, "You're Ed's brothers. I remember you from the other night."

"Yes," Sig said cautiously, "I remember you, too." _We gave a silent nod to each other, a quiet understanding that my family would be left alone. Except, this time, my family came to your place. Shit, I hope you're not pissed off that our 'treaty' was broken._ Shifting his feet nervously, Sig respectfully gave the man his attention. Norman was less respectful.

"What the hell happened?" the middle brother demanded.

"Come over here," Dickie glanced back at the cops and nodded in the direction away from the action. He walked behind the ambulance and waited for the brothers to follow. When they were out of earshot, Dickie explained, "This ain't the story you're gonna get from the cops but here's what really happened tonight."

The gangster relayed all that he knew, leaving out the minor details, "Your brother sold his bike for cash. He begged permission to play poker so that he could make enough winnings to help with the hospital bills. My…my associate humored him and allowed him to play a few hands. The kid played so well that…well, we kinda got lost in the moment. When the kid won the pot, Elliot got furious and pulled a gun on him. His buddy, Adam, shot him first in revenge for killing his brother earlier this week. Elliot managed to get off a shot before he died. Adam died a few minutes later."

Sig listened to the tale, his face turning to stone and giving no indication whatsoever that he had any reaction to the news. Norman gave a small gasp at the part where Edgar was nearly shot but otherwise kept quiet.

"Jun told me before I came out here that the kid refused to take the money he won. He wants to be honest with the cops when he tells them there was no gambling going on," Dickie prayed these men were as wise as their little brother and smart enough to know when to keep their mouths shut, "You understand what I'm telling you?"

"I understand," Sig whispered in a deep voice, nodding his head slightly.

"Ed's waiting up there for you," Dickie pointed his thumb behind him and to the right, "But I wanted you to know how brave your little brother was tonight."

"Brave…" Norman squinted his eyes against the setting sun, "…or stupid?"

"Maybe a little of both?" Dickie said with a smile and then drifted back to his associates.

Without a word, Sig stomped up the small incline with purpose, not even looking back to see if Norman was following him. His eyes spotted the lanky teenager sitting all alone on the side of the building. Initially, he fully intended to grab his brother off that dumpster and drag him home for the licking of his life. As he got closer, he saw the blood on his youngest brother's face and hands and the pure shock and terror in those green eyes and his intense anger melted for the moment.

When he finally arrived at the dumpster, Sig stopped dead and glared at Edgar, scanning him up and down for visible injuries.

Edgar had watched his brothers approaching and was torn between cowering under the trash and jumping off the dumpster into his oldest brother's arms. "Sig…" he swallowed, everything too overwhelming and no clear place to start at. "I…I…" Edgar's voice broke, tears welling up in his eyes. _Please, I know you're mad at me but you have no idea what I just seen and experienced. I'm scared to pieces and I need you so badly right now to just hold me, make me feel safe and tell me everything is gonna be OK. _

After a tense few seconds, as usual, Sig made the first move.

He did grab his kid brother off the dumpster but, instead of dragging him off to the truck, he picked him up in a giant bear hug with Edgar's feet dangling off the ground. "Oh my God, Edgar," Sig whispered in his ear, almost squeezing the breath out of him and feeling the tears forming in his eyes. _How close did I come to losing you? I can't even think about it._

The youngest Hansen went limp in his big brother's arms, clinging to the back of Sig's shirt, getting red-orange stains on the back of his white t-shirt and melting into the tight embrace. He buried his face in Sig's shoulder and started sobbing, never so grateful for the hug and reassurance that he was still loved.

As they clung to each other, Norman smiled widely behind them. The sight of his brothers' reunion reminded him of a lion cub that had been separated from his pack. When the cub finally makes his way back to the family, his sibling cubs try to rub their scent back on him, reaffirming his place among the pride. _I wish it hadn't been under these circumstances, but it is so good to see them together again._

The embrace lasted a while, neither oldest nor youngest brother making much sense. A lot of nonsense drabble was being spouted about 'I'm sorry,' 'I'm OK,' 'It's gonna be alright' and 'How did this happen' from both of them.

When Sig finally placed his brother back on the ground, he took a step back and ran his hands over Edgar's person, still assessing that there were no injuries and the blood on his face and hands were not coming from him.

Edgar stood perfectly still, allowing the careful inspection to take place. His legs felt like rubber and he swayed a little, stumbling to one foot.

Sig pulled Edgar back into a short hug, carding his brother's hair through his hands.

"I'm OK, Sig," Edgar reassured his brother.

"Jesus, I was scared out of my mind when the cops called," Sig's eyes rolled up to the sky and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

"I think the cops still want to talk to me," the youngest brother said softly.

Sig lifted his head down, "You tell them the truth, Edgar. Remember what I said before." He gave his little brother a 'love pat' on his backside as a tiny reminder of the importance of being honest with the police.

Edgar gulped when his brother's hand patted his right butt cheek and then returned suddenly to the area to feel around for whatever was in Edgar's jeans pocket.

"What's in your pocket?" Sig pulled his brother closer and hissed in his ear, the impression of a fishing knife coming through the denim. _Please don't tell me…_

Edgar nuzzled his nose in Sig's upper arm and whispered apprehensively, "My fishing knife."

"Oh, kid," Sig pulled back and released his hold, maintaining a quiet voice around the lurking police officers, "You didn't dare to come down here with a knife, did you?"

"YOU HAVE A KNIFE ON YOU?" Norman hissed loudly.

Sig turned and almost smacked his younger brother. "SHHH!" he shushed back, poking Norman in the side and pointing over at the cop cars. Then looking back at Edgar, the cobalt blue eyes grew wide with fury.

"Ummm," Edgar looked down at his feet, "I can explain."

"I'm sure you will," Sig said sternly.

"How's this for an explanation," Norman whispered in an angry, sarcastic hiss, "Never bring a knife to a gun fight…for that matter, stay the F home!"

Edgar looked up, brushing a lingering tear off his face, "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?"

"You need to ask?" Sig put his right hand out in front of him with a wave.

Edgar grabbed the waving right hand gently with his left, holding it there as some of the loose, bloodstained gauze swayed from his hand in the summer evening's breeze. Solemnly, he reached in the right front pocket of his jeans and, with the tips of his fingers, fished something out. When he found what he was looking for, he placed the gold class ring with the blue stone on his oldest brother's right ring finger.

"I know I am and I know there's a lot we have to talk about but…" Edgar glanced up at Sig and said sincerely, "…hopefully you'll remember I'm not totally a bad kid."

"Oh my God," the words slipped out of Sig's mouth for the third time as he stared at his own class ring. Other than those words, which seemed to be all Sig could say since the phone call until that moment, he was rendered speechless.

Even Norman had nothing to add but a sharp intake of breath and a low whistle as the air escaped through his front teeth.

"I won it back," Edgar informed his brothers. His voice was neither proud nor ashamed but just plainly factual, quietly passing along the information. _I would have taken it off Elliot's dead body if I didn't already have it in my pocket._

Sig looked up, tears streaming freely down his face. "You came back here for THIS?" he held his hand up.

Edgar visibly trembled, the image of Elliot doing and saying the exact same thing coming back to him. _Was it worth it? Was this moment worth it? Two guys died, I almost got killed and I'm leaving with nothing more than what I came with…except that ring and forgiveness. So does this make it better? Are we even?_

"Nothing comes between us," Edgar stared back at Sig with unwavering green eyes, tear tracks still damp on his bruised and bloodied face. "Nothing."

"Edgar…" Sig whispered breathlessly, placing his right hand on the side of Edgar's face, "Nothing ever did. Only you believed that."

"Me believing it was enough," Edgar said with finality, "And I'm really sorry those guys died and that I lied to you, Norman," he glanced over to his older brother with soulful eyes. Looking back at Sig, Edgar finished, "And that both of you were worried about me and that I gambled illegally. But I'll never, ever be sorry THAT ring is back on YOUR finger." _Never!_

Norman noted that Sig's body had begun shaking and, before things could break down again between his brothers, he intervened with a firm hand on Sig's shoulder. "Listen, we have all the time in the world to sort this out. Right now, there are other things and other people we have to deal with…like the cops and the Corleone Family."

_Tough guy's right._ Sig took a deep sigh to calm his nerves and looked over at Norman, unable to meet his youngest brother's firm gaze and face his distorted thinking at the moment. "Stay here with him. I'm gonna find someone who'll let us get the hell out of here." Without glancing back at Edgar, Sig walked off in search of a friendly face and some fresh air. He couldn't help but notice how perfect the old ring felt back in its rightful place, like he just put on his favorite pair of sneakers or a worn pair of jeans. There was an unmistakable level of comfort in having his ring back. He just wished it hadn't come back to him in the manner in which it did.

* * *

As Edgar watched Sig walk away, his eyes trailed over to face the next angry and anxious older brother left behind with him. "Sig's pretty angry, huh?" he asked softly.

Norman glared at his baby brother, "What did you expect? For him to fall on his knees in gratitude that you risked your life coming back here and almost got shot in the process?"

Edgar bowed his head and shrugged, "No." _Anger will fade…the ring is forever…remember that. _ "You mad, too?" he asked with downcast eyes.

"You bet your ass I am," Norman quipped back and observed Edgar flinch slightly, "You outright lied to me this morning and on that note. How long have you been planning this?"

"Since the morning after they beat me up."

Shaking his head with disbelief, Norman clenched his fists and tried to remain calm, "You might not want to share that with Sig just yet."

"I did what I thought was right," Edgar looked up.

"And now?" Norman confronted Edgar in a hard voice, "You lied to me after all that 'I wanna be closer to you' stuff. How am I supposed to feel about that?"

"I wish I could have told you but you would have come after me and I didn't want you to get hurt or get into trouble again," the youngest brother tried to explain, "I never meant…"

"You didn't want me to get hurt or get into trouble," Norman repeated the ridiculous reasoning, "So you put yourself in a position where you could have gotten hurt and now you're in a lot of trouble."

"Something like that," Edgar touched his forehead gingerly, the pain in his head pounding into his ears. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the pain, wincing as he caressed his right temple.

Studying his brother's painful movements along with the drained color of his face, what he could see of it that wasn't covered with blood, Norman determined quickly that Edgar was likely suffering from mild shock. _I just got Sig out of here by telling him now was not the time and I go and do the same damn thing. Stupid. Stop focusing on how you feel and think about what my little brother has just been through._

"Come here," Norman gently grabbed for Edgar under his arms and brought him close to his chest. He guided Edgar's head to rest on his broad shoulder. _You're still part of my pack, too._ "I'm just really, really glad you're OK."

Edgar gladly accepted this second embrace. _Hugging Sig is like hugging a giraffe. Hugging Norman feels like hugging a bulldog._ He cuddled up against his older brother and whispered, "I'm so tired all of a sudden."

"Sit down," Norman released him and ushered him back up to sitting on the dumpster lid. He jumped up next and sat beside his brother, putting an arm around his shoulder and letting him lean on him for support. _The kid has so little strength right now, like he just got back from a fight._

The two of them waited there for a time, absentmindedly watching the flurry of police activity. When the EMTs rolled out a stretcher on wheels, the body it carried shrouded with a white sheet from head to toe, Edgar whispered to Norman in a faraway voice, "Have you ever seen someone die before, Norm?" The youngest brother's green eyes followed the stretcher into the waiting ambulance.

Norman glanced at Edgar and followed his line of vision to the dead body being carted off to the morgue. "No." _ But you have and that just freaking hurts. Somehow we failed again to protect you from life's evils._

"I have," Edgar whispered strangely, "Two people, in fact." _Both going to the same place. Perhaps one is going one way and the other is going somewhere else._

"I'm gonna put the bike on the truck while we wait," Norman hopped off the dumpster, finding any excuse to step away from the gruesome scene for a few minutes, "Keys?" he asked to Edgar with an outstretched hand.

Edgar shook his head sadly, "They're locked in the office safe."

Norman had momentarily forgotten Edgar had used the bike to raise the money for poker. _It was a huge sacrifice on his part. I know that. I know how much he loves that bike._ Pushing his personal feelings aside about all the work he had done on the motor bike, Norman sighed and walked away.

Edgar jumped off the dumpster and wordlessly followed behind him. He assisted Norman the best he could with his injured hands to push the bike over to the truck. With Norman doing most of the heavy work, the two of them secured the bike to the back of the truck bed with chains and heavy rope. Then they both sat down on the tailgate and waited for Sig to return.

* * *

Almost getting in the way of the coroner coming out the building with the second stretcher and dead body, Sig moved out of the way and watched the shrouded figure pass. _This is the third dead body I've seen today. First, the guy at work and now these two assholes. How the hell am I supposed to feel about these two dead guys, one of which I graduated high school with? Just glad it's them and not Edgar? Yes, fucking absolutely! But should I feel this sense of justification and satisfaction? Probably not, but I do. Sorry, Lord, but I can't find it in my heart to forgive the bastards that hurt my brother even after their death. Shit, I really want to get my brothers out of here._

Following the bodies, a small cluster of mobsters exited the building. They passed by him and were about to get in their cars when the smallest and oldest man stopped in his tracks. He turned around and stared questioningly at Sig like he'd seen a ghost. The man had a kind, weathered face with amber eyes and very furry eyebrows.

Sig stared back at him. The older man took a few steps back and stood directly in front of him. He tossed his chin up, making the black Fedora with the red feather tip up.

Jun studied the young man before him. _Different eyes. Lighter hair. But everything else is exactly the same. Same bone structure. Same countenance and posture. Same woeful, heartbroken expression_.

Dickie stepped forward as well and whispered in Jun's ear, "The older brother."

Jun nodded like he already knew. "Name?"

"Sigurd Hansen, sir."

Jun smiled. It was all the information he needed to know. "Corrado Soprano," he stretched out his hand, "But you can call me Junior."

"Sir," Sig nodded and shook the man's hand. _You let my little brother play in an illegal poker game in an extremely unsafe and dangerous place with a psychopath and his friends. I'd like to punch you in the face but I'm guessing I wouldn't live long enough to take my next breath._ Reining in his anger, Sig kept his face devoid of any emotion.

"Your little brother has moxie," Jun smiled, "Biggest balls and heart I've ever seen on a kid…or any man for that matter. He came here to protect his family's honor," the gangster stared Sig down, his eyes growing hard. He pointed a bony finger in Sig's chest, "Whatever he has done, you don't forget that. There is no greater thing than family."

"I know that, sir," Sig was not interested in a lecture about family but he gave the man the respect of his full attention.

Jun's eyes softened, "I don't ever say this, but I'll say it to you now: My humble apologies for what transpired here tonight as well as the other night with those thugs and your young brother."

Again, Sig was at a loss for words. He simply nodded his acceptance, honestly not feeling the forgiveness in his heart.

"This place is about to be razed to the ground in a few days and we will be gone from the area," Jun said with assurance, "No more problems will befall your family. You have my word." He went to leave only to turn back around and add sincerely, "And my sympathies on the loss of your mother. She had to have been a great woman to raise such a strong son with such integrity and determination."

Finally, Sig felt something other than repressed rage. He softened towards the man just a little, "Thank you, sir. She was the best mother we could have ever hoped for."

"You know," Jun stepped close to Sig, making him feel uncomfortable, "The kid refused to take the money. He won 8000 smackeroos and won't take it cause he didn't want to lie to the fuzz. He said you told him it was wrong."

Sig took a nervous step back. Still, he answered truthfully, "It is."

Jun chuckled. "So it is," he uttered, "He's a good kid and I suspect you're a good man. You tell your father to go easy on him." With that advice, Jun walked away, his clan in his wake like a bride with her fawning bridesmaids. The gangsters piled into their dark colored Mercedes Benz's and Cadillac's and drove away.

_This is surreal_, Sig thought to himself as he watched them kick up a cloud of dust in their wake.

"Mr. Hansen." The soft female voice brought Sig back to reality. He turned around and came face to face with the woman he'd been fantasizing about for the past week. _Those hips…_

"Ma'am?" Sig's face felt flush with the intimate thoughts he'd had about this particular policewoman being in his bed, "My brother wants to go home. Is there any way you could talk to him now so we don't have to wait here any longer?"

"It turns out we won't be needing his statement after all," Officer Markley said with irritation.

Sig couldn't understand why the lady seemed annoyed. He was grateful Edgar wasn't going to have to be interviewed about what happened and why he was here in the first place. "OK," he shrugged.

"It seems everything in there is wrapped up neatly in a bow," Patricia muttered with a flutter of her hand. Several police officers were already taping off the area. Looking at the tall, handsome man in front of her, she hid her irritated feelings about the lies the Chief was buying. "I was told your brother's keys and paperwork to the bike are in the office safe. We have someone coming down to open it but it could take a while for him to get here. There's no need to wait here. Someone will drop those things off at your house in a few days."

_Can it be you?_ Sig nodded.

"You can go," she said as she dismissed him, adding, "Please keep your brother out of trouble for the rest of the summer."

"I plan on doing just that," Sig said firmly, a stern look of authority crossing his face.

Patricia took a second glance at the look and found it somewhat attractive. _Perhaps I can bring those keys by later in the week. This job usually sucks so I might as well enjoy at least a little bit of it._

"Goodnight, Mr. Hansen."

"Goodnight, Ma'am."

The two blond, attractive young people separated and went in different directions, each resisting the temptation to turn around and watch the other one walk away.

* * *

Sig wanted to get home in the worst way so he could have a smoke and perhaps take Norman up on that 'only one beer' offer. _Maybe we both sort of deserve it after tonight. _

The oldest Hansen drove home quietly, Edgar curled up on Norman's side and half asleep next to him. The ring was securely placed on Sig's hand and he glanced at it occasionally as he firmly held the steering wheel. Norman stared blankly out the passenger side window. It had grown dark but the heat of the day had yet to abate.

When Sig pulled up in the driveway, Edgar was already asleep. He put the truck in park and shut off the engine, handing the keys over Edgar's head to Norman.

Norman held the keys and whispered almost to the point where he was mouthing the words, "Do you want me to go get ice cream?" He glanced down at his sleeping brother and back at Sig. _Please say no, not right now. Please say this can wait._

Sig shook his head, knowing exactly what Norman was implying. "He's in no shape for that discussion," he mouthed back. _ Neither am I because I don't know how to handle this yet._

"I think he's in shock."

"Agreed," Sig nodded, "Let's clean him up and get him to bed. Then I really need to talk to you."

"OK," Norman gently shook his little brother awake, "Edgar…Edgar…Hey, we're home."

Edgar opened his eyes and then slowly looked over at Sig with a questioning gaze.

"After we get you something to eat and get those bloody clothes off, we're all just gonna go to bed," Sig said softly, running a hand over Edgar's face and brushing the hair out of his eyes, "We'll talk tomorrow, OK."

Edgar sleepily nodded his understanding, extremely grateful he didn't have to relive the night again by telling the tale. He was exhausted but if Sig had insisted their discussion be tonight, Edgar would have found a way to deal with it. Now, he could just forget about things for a while. _Emotionally, I got nothing left_. He slowly exited the truck after Norman.

All three Hansen brothers entered their home with the TV playing to no one and the lights running up the electric bill. Sig locked the door behind them, never more determined to keep the evils of the outside world from entering their lives ever again.

~tbc


	48. Weight

**Thank you for the birthday wishes and for making the day last week extra special. **

**Warnings: underage drinking and language **

* * *

As Sig locked the back door and turned off the living room TV, Norman escorted his lethargic younger brother up the stairs with a firm hand around his skinny upper arm. Edgar was weak and compliant, allowing Norman to guide him to the second floor bathroom without so much as a look or word between them.

Flipping on the bathroom light switch, Norman got a better look at the exhausted, blood-covered young teenager next to him. Of course, Edgar still had someone else's blood on his face, hands and clothes. _Whose blood is this and how'd it get here?_ For the first time, Norman noticed Edgar had flecks of blood in his shaggy hair and still retained the shocked, glazed look in his green eyes

Hesitating, Norman furrowed his eyebrows and asked, "Do you want to get a shower?" _ We should have stayed in the kitchen. I could have washed your hair in the sink but I didn't know I needed to._

Gratefully, Edgar nodded his acceptance of the offer. _I haven't had a real shower in six days._ Currently, he felt like the smell of blood, booze and death had seeped into his pores and made a permanent addition to his epidermis. _Why does dried blood smell like dirty, rusty metal? It has to be one of the worse smells in the world. _He anticipated the shower would ameliorate his condition.

"Not with his hands like that," Sig said sternly, appearing in the bathroom and brushing hastily by Edgar on his way to the tub, "Norman, take those dirty bandages off his hands, will ya?" He sat down on the edge of the porcelain siding and proceeded to fill up the tub with warm water.

"Sig," Edgar said softly, weakly holding out his hands for Norman to remove the bloodstained gauze, "Can I please get a shower? I can deal with the pain for a little bit." The youngest brother looked longingly over at the back of Sig's blonde head. He couldn't help but notice the rigid countenance of Sig's broad shoulders.

Sig didn't even glance up or take the request under advisement. "No," was the nippy, emotionless reply. _What part of you not hurting yourself anymore did you not understand last time? You're not just 'dealing with the pain' when there is no need for it. A bath works just as good as a shower…minus the pain to your hands._

Edgar hunched his shoulders, resigned to the fact that he'd have to endure another humiliating bath given to him by one, or perhaps both, of his brothers. _I'm still sick of being treated like a baby or an invalid but now is definitely not the time to argue about it. I'm not gonna make Sig anymore pissed off than he already is and it's not worth arguing over anyway. I feel so dirty in so many ways; dirty money, dirty blood, dirty everything…and I don't care how the dirt comes off._

While Norman unwrapped Edgar's hands, he hissed softly at several recently renewed open wounds on the once healing skin, "Some of this has gotten worse since yesterday," he said, peering up at Edgar with overt displeasure, "I know because I wrapped them myself last night. What the hell happened?" _Like I don't already know._

"I was gripping the handles of my bike pretty hard," Edgar explained, studying his bare hands and observing the raw damage, "I didn't think it was THAT hard but…"

"Apparently, it was," Sig interrupted with frustration, glimpsing briefly over at Edgar's hands and rapidly leaving the bathroom before he shouted at his youngest brother for being so careless with his injuries. The eldest brother went and stood perfectly erect in the darkened hallway, his teeth clenched together, causing his jaw muscles to become turgid. _I don't know if I can take this. How much did this kid sacrifice all for the sake of this damn ring on my finger? How much was he willing to endure?_ Forcing away his thoughts, Sig took only a moment to wallow in doubt and confusion before advancing with purpose to the tasks of acquiring clean shorts from Edgar's dresser and several fluffy towels and terry cloths from the linen closet.

By the time Sig returned to the bathroom, Edgar had undressed down to his plaid boxers and was timidly sitting on the closed toilet seat. Sig positioned the clean shorts and towels on the edge of the sink.

The tub was almost full but the young teenager was clearly too embarrassed to get completely naked. The sight reminded Sig of the first bath he'd given his brother a few days ago, along with the fear and anguish Edgar experienced after he was abused, and Sig's anger dissolved for the time being. He closed his eyes and tried to draw on the gentleness and kindness he tapped into back then.

As Norman picked up the bloody clothes off the floor, Edgar's fishing knife slipped out of his jean's pocket and fell to the shiny linoleum tile. The loud, whimsical pings the knife emitted as it bounced around a few times before coming to a stop caused Sig's eyelids to burst open.

All three brothers paused and stared at the dangerously sharp object lying innocently in the middle of the bathroom. No one had the desire to pick it up from the floor, all three of them silently hoping someone else would take the job of magically making the offending weapon disappear. The pun 'you could cut the tension in the room with a knife' was never more true.

Finally, Sig bent down and retrieved the knife. He held it by its handle, point down and the edge still sheathed in its black plastic cover. All thoughts of kindness and gentleness faded and the anger in him rose again to the surface.

Holding the knife out in front of him, Sig glared over Edgar with furious blue eyes. "I know you know better than this," he said in a cold, hardhearted voice.

Edgar blanched at the words and the look of sheer disappointment on Sig's face, his pale skin growing even whiter. He turned his head and watched the crystal liquid splashing out of the faucet. _ I was scared…really, really scared. I never meant to use it. I would never hurt someone unless I had to. Can you understand that?_

Appalled by Edgar's lack of an apologetic response, Sig left the bathroom once again, feeling like the simple tasks this evening were becoming increasingly more complicated.

Norman sighed, embracing the dirty clothes and gawking at the floor where the knife had fallen. Without looking up, he said straightforwardly, "Get in the tub, Edgar. One of us will be right back to help you." _I just don't know which one of us it will be. _Then he departed without another word, carrying the bloodstained clothes with him.

The middle brother traced Sig down the hallway and halted in the doorway of his oldest brother's room. Curiously, he surveyed Sig opening his top dresser drawer and placing Edgar's fishing knife deep within its recesses. Not realizing Norman was watching, Sig slipped off his class ring and dropped it into the bottom of his dresser drawer, next to the fishing knife.

_Oh God, Sig, don't take it off! _ "Why are you taking it off?" Norman asked quietly, observing that Sig's face looked just as weary and exhausted as Edgar's.

Startled by the unexpected voice, Sig flinched like he'd just been caught doing something wrong. _Maybe it is wrong to take it off considering everything Edgar went through to get it back…but all that he went through are the reasons I'm taking it off._ He rested his hand on the molding accenting the top of the dresser and leaned his forehead on his knuckles like he was experiencing a migraine, "I just can't wear it right now. I…It's…I can't explain it." Lifting his head swiftly, he firmly closed the drawer, not willing to elaborate further.

The bathtub water shut off and the soft sounds of displaced, sloshing water came through the adjoining wall.

"You've got blood on the back of your shirt," Norman pointed out meekly, changing the subject of the ring.

"I do?" Sig seemed surprised by the information, craning his neck to verify Norman's observation. He tugged the fabric over his shoulder and was able to see for himself the two orangey, distorted handprints on the back of the white cotton fabric.

Norman adjusted the bundle of bloody jeans, t-shirt and denim jacket in his arms, "Whose blood is this, anyway?"

The thought prompted Sig to rip off his t-shirt and ball up the cotton in his hands. _Whosever blood it is, it belonged to someone that hurt my brother and I don't want any part of them, dead or not, in this house._ "I want that blood off his face!"

"We'll get it off," Norman said evenly, speaking like he was walking on eggshells.

With large strides of his long legs, Sig marched over to Norman and took the dirty clothes roughly from his brother's hands, adding his own shirt to the bundle. "All this stuff gets thrown away. I'm not even bothering to wash it. Those jeans barely fit him anyway and the shirt was mine to begin with."

Sensing Sig was getting close to snapping, Norman didn't bother to argue about the jean jacket. It was Edgar's favorite, worn down and faded because he wore it so often. _I'll get the jacket out of the trash later and wash it_. Very quietly, and bordering on a soothing voice he'd use with a child or mental patient, Norman asked, "Someone needs to wash the kid up. Do you want me to do it?"

"No," Sig squeezed the bundle close to his chest, "You've been stuck taking care of him for…."

"Hey," Norman's tone grew hard and he took a tentative step toward his older brother, staring him down, "Don't you dare fucking finish that sentence." Sig backed up, astonished that Norman would confront him with such quick hostility during such a tense situation.

With an accusatory finger, Norman pointed it inches away from Sig's nose. In a deep, low voice, Norman spoke insistently, "He's my brother, too. Never once did I consider myself stuck with him so don't you ever say that to me again. And right now, he's sitting in a tub full of water that he can't touch and blood from God knows where all over his face. I don't care who gets it off but someone needs to do it. I'm asking you if you want…if you CAN do it."

Sig's fists clenched tightly, gripping the clothes in his hand. He stared back at Norman, refusing to dance around the issue. Straight up, he said plainly, "You're asking me if I can do it without laying a rough hand on him, aren't you?"

"Yes," Norman admitted freely and without shame, "Sorry if you think I doubt you but I need to know. I need you to be honest with me because if you're in no shape to do this, I can step in. It's not a dig against you. I completely understand…"

"I'd never hurt him," Sig heatedly shoved past Norman, hiding the deep hurt on his face that his brother doubted him. _I'm so fucking angry at Edgar right now; I don't know what I'm capable of. I wouldn't hurt him but I wouldn't exactly be gentle with him either. _

"I didn't mean it like that," Norman called after him as he passed.

"You think you can do a better job, then by all means, Norm," Sig muttered angrily as he descended the stairs and found the excuse he needed to get out of the task, guilt-free. _I'll blame it on Norman because that's what I do when I'm angry...he can take it, he's so damn tough!_

_If you wanted me to do it, you could have just said that instead of making it look like it's my fault for asking_. Norman stared down the empty hallway, tempted to chase his older brother downstairs and continue their argument. But that would only compound the situation and Edgar was still waiting. Norman knew a bath was first on the list.

Carrying the dirty clothes down the hallway and stairs, Sig stomped loudly through the living room, kitchen and arrived at the back door he had given such careful consideration in locking up for the night. Balancing the clothes against his bare chest, Sig unlocked the door and flung it open, the crash of the wood and metal doorknob reverberating throughout the house.

Stepping outside, Sig allowed the screen door to bang shut behind him and dropped the bundle of bloody clothes in the outside trash can. He slammed the metal lid shut for good measure. The night air hit his bare skin but did nothing to cool his temper. He sat down heavily on the porch steps, pulled out a cigarette from his sweatpants pocket and lit it with his Taurus lighter, kept safely in the pack. As he smoked the soothing nicotine, the tears of anger, frustration and defeat silently poured out of his blue, bloodshot eyes and he didn't even bother to wipe them away.

_I feel like there's a stack of bricks weighing down on my chest. My baby brother almost got shot because he willingly went back to a dangerous place despite my direct and explicit order that our family was done with all that. He openly disobeyed me, carried a concealed fishing knife for purposes unknown and put himself in great peril. Yet, he doesn't seem the least bit sorry for it. He's only sorry that he lied and gambled, not that he could have been killed. _

_And now my younger brother doubts I can handle this. That would hurt a lot more if I didn't doubt myself. How much of this is my fault?_

Sig was so deep in thought that he almost scorched his finger on the end of the cigarette and hastily tossed the half-smoked stick into the ashtray. He planned to stop for the night but found himself lighting another…and another.

* * *

From the crash of the back door, Norman had astutely assumed Sig threw away the bloody clothes in the outside trash can along with helping himself to his nicotine addiction. _Fucking smoking again…I hate that shit!_

Heading back into the bathroom, Norman found his younger brother huddled in the corner of the tub. "I heard you guys arguing," Edgar said softly, his knees pulled up to his chest and a washrag strategically placed between his legs.

"It's not the first time," Norman quipped with his usual dry humor. Kneeling down by the tub, he set about scrubbing the blood off Edgar's face with a clean wash cloth. He was careful to avoid the greenish-yellow bruises still visible on Edgar's cheek and around his eye.

"Did he leave?" Edgar asked in a whisper, studying his brother's handsome face and trying to gage his mood. It was challenge with Norman as he often hid his real emotions so well.

Norman put a firm hand around the back of Edgar's head and tipped his face over to get the bloody patches under his neck. "No," he said, unable to disguise the disgust in his voice, "If I had to guess, Sig's outside smoking."

"Oh," Edgar muttered.

Tipping his brother's chin so they were facing each other, Norman dropped the edginess in his voice and spoke softly, "And before you go blaming yourself for that, just stop, OK?"

Edgar paused. _But I think it is my fault_.

Norman cocked an eyebrow. _Don't argue with me_.

Edgar nodded. _Any excuse, right? I did the same thing tonight. And I'm eventually gonna have to tell my brothers that…but not while I'm naked and can't run out of the house to get away from Norman._ "Am I going with you to the hardware store tomorrow?"

"Ummm," Norman pondered the question, suspecting that Sig would have something to say on tomorrow's course of events, "I don't think so. Sig is staying home tomorrow."

"Why?" Edgar asked, permitting Norman to take each of his sore hands off the sides of the tub and delicately wipe away any remnants of blood, "I thought he was working late all this week."

"There was a fatal accident at the docks and the warehouse is closed so he has tomorrow off," Norman explained absentmindedly as he focused on his assigned task. He had to force himself not to stare at the mass of varyingly colored bruises on his younger brother's legs and, most especially, the large, gray-edged Band-Aid still covering the two cigarette burns on his upper arm.

"What happened to the worker?"

"Don't know…" Norman rung out the washcloth and placed over the drying rack, "…Sig didn't want to talk about it."

Edgar contemplated the death of the dockworker as Norman manipulated the shampoo through his hair and rinsed it free of dirt and grime. As the water streamed over his neck and down his back, Edgar kept his eyes closed and whispered, "It could have been Sig that had gotten killed today in the dock accident."

_Man, there's been a lot of death today. Still, it amazes me how this kid can put two and two together. There might be more of me in him than I realized. So let's drive the point of tonight's actions home because this is an opportunity I can't pass up._ Norman reached for the clean towel and gingerly wiped off his younger brother's face, "It could have been you that had gotten killed tonight in the shootout."

Edgar's eyes flew open and he stared stark-faced at Norman, his own words reflected back at him, the view in the abstract mirror one of which he did not care to see.

_Bull's eye._ "So now you know a little of how we're all feeling tonight." Moving swiftly, Norman didn't give his brother a chance to respond. _Let that fact soak in while you're soaking._ Hanging the towel on the rack, he left the bathroom again for a few minutes and readied the new bandages for Edgar's hands.

Edgar decided not to let himself or Norman's words soak in any further. _It hurts too much and I'm too tired to think about it_. Removing himself from the tub, Edgar wrapped the towel around his waist and let the water out of the tub with his foot against the depressor. He parked himself on the edge of the tub and drip-dried, unable to use his exposed, raw hands to dry off.

Hearing the water trickling down the drain, Norman came back into the bathroom. "You hungry?" he asked his brother. _He looks like he's about to fall asleep sitting up. _

Edgar shook his head slowly, "No."_ I am but my stomach feels twisted, my abdominal muscles are still achy from vomiting today and the sight of those dead guys just…_

Norman looked doubtful. "You sure? Did you eat anything today?"

"I'm too tired to eat."

"Alright then," Norman sounded defeated and picked up the second towel, rubbing his brother's hair free of water, "Let's get your teeth brushed and get you in bed."

Edgar stood up, reaching for his clean boxers and managing to shimmy them up to cover his private parts. Norman took the towels and tossed them in the hamper outside of the bathroom.

The nightly process of dental hygiene completed, Edgar dutifully followed Norman into his bedroom like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His blanket and sheets had been turned down, clean bandages and antibiotic ointment laid out on the bed.

With a deep sigh, Edgar climbed into his bed and Norman adjusted the covers up to his chest.

Making quick work of treating Edgar's hands, Norman sat on the edge of the bed and rewrapped them as he had done the previous nights. "You probably just got yourself three extra days with this shi…stuff," he grumbled, referring to the gauze and ointment. _Natural consequence of his behaviors…maybe…but I still feel bad for the kid._

"I…I…I wasn't thinking about my hands," Edgar whispered, staring at the new bandages. _They do feel much better now with the cream._

"That wasn't all you weren't thinkin' about," Norman said before he could prevent the words from tumbling out. _Sig's gonna rake this kid over the coals tomorrow so I need to just freaking stop with my smart mouth._ Lowering his head to avoid the hurt in Edgar's eyes, Norman returned the ointment and gauze roll to the nightstand. He turned off the lamp, casting darkness into the bedroom. No one had bothered to turn on the hallway light and now only the moonlight provided illumination into the spacious room.

Sliding down further into the bed, Edgar rolled over onto his belly and buried his hands under the pillow. He turned his head and faced the wall, feeling the softness of the pillow under his cheek. Expecting Norman to just leave, Edgar was a little surprised Norman still hadn't move off the bed.

A large hand touched Edgar's upper back, over the covers, and started rubbing wide, gentle circles over his back, stroking the back of his neck and hair.

_Why am I still amazed when my brothers show me affection, even though I'm in trouble?_ "Thanks for coming to get me," Edgar murmured weakly.

"What did you think we'd do?" Norman smiled in the darkness, "Sell you to the Italian Mafioso?"

"Huh?"

Norman shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips, "Never mind." He continued to rub Edgar's back very softly over the blanket, wondering how his little brother could ever think either he or Sig wouldn't come and save his ass, regardless of the circumstances. _Doubt is a powerful emotion. It crawls into your heart when you're not looking and eats away at your confidence._

_Even though it didn't stop me, I thought beforehand about how Sig was gonna react to me going down to the Shack and getting his ring back. Yet, I never once thought of Norman and how he'd feel about it_. "Norman," Edgar turned his head towards his nightstand and glanced up at his brother, "I'm sorry I lied to you."

"I'm sorry you felt you had to," Norman sighed, brushing a hand over Edgar's exposed cheek and pushing the damp hair over his ear. _ Just like I felt when I lied about going to Amanda's house._ "And I'm sorry I gave you a hard time about it when we were waiting for Sig." _I gave this some thought on the ride home because I had to find a way to let my anger go before I went to bed. I still believe in 'never going to bed angry.'_

Edgar rolled over on his back and wrapped his arms around his own chest, placing his hands over the fleece blanket. "Please don't be sorry for that. You'll make me feel even worse than I already do. There's nothing to be sorry for. I was the one that messed up."

"Yeah, I know, but you didn't need the extra attitude from me," Norman spoke softly, his ear catching the sound of the back door closing from downstairs, "I should learn from you."

"What are you talking about?" Edgar questioned, flabbergasted at the thought of his brilliant big brother learning something from him, the role reversal incomprehensible.

"Just the other night, I lied to you about going to Amanda's house when I was really going to the Shack to confront those…" Norman hindered himself from using the word 'assholes,' a bit reserved in utilizing the colorful word to describe the recently deceased, "…guys. I lied to you because I thought what I was doing was important enough to do so and I justified it by convincing myself I was somehow protecting you. But you forgave me before I even had a chance to ask for your forgiveness, didn't you?"

Edgar nodded in the moonlight, validating Norman's assumption.

"And you didn't say anything to rub it in my face or to make me feel bad about it, either. You handled my lie a heck of a lot better than I handled yours and that's what I'm really sorry about. That's what I mean when I say I should learn from you," Norman reached out and carded his hand through Edgar's hair. _It's true. The lies hurt but I understand the reasoning behind them….same as mine…the intense belief what you're doing is worth the hurt._ He looked his brother straight in the eye and said with sincerity, "You honestly don't have a mean or resentful bone in your body, do you? You never hold a grudge and you can just let the 'wrong' people do against you go without a second thought."

"Not always," Edgar said in a pensive, faraway voice. _I hesitated to forgive Matt when he stole that pill and I hesitated to forgive Adam when he asked me to. And I don't think I'll ever forgive Elliot for what he did, and almost did, to me._ "Norman," Edgar asked quietly, "Can you understand why I did what I did tonight? I mean, I didn't ever imagine things would turn out like they did, with people getting killed and the cops and everything. But can you, at least a little bit, understand why I went back there?"

Even in the darkness, Norman was still able to make out the desperation on his brother's face. He didn't need to see it. He could hear the need for some kind of understanding in Edgar's voice. The middle brother paused and evaluated the night's sad turn of events: _my younger brother's lies and manipulation, his actions causing him to reinjure his hands, selling his beloved, prized motor bike, risking his wellbeing in returning to the place where he was abused, confronting his abusers and gambling illegally. And all this just to get back a piece of metal and glass worth about a few hundred dollars_. At that moment, Norman figured out what Edgar was truly doing tonight and it wasn't just getting the ring back. _The kid probably doesn't even realize what he was really doing._

The silence hovering in the dark room caused Edgar's hopes of empathy to fade like the setting sun and he moved to turn on his side and face the wall again. A strong, sturdy hand on his forearm stopped him.

"Actually," Norman said slowly, "I do. Other than you, I'm probably the only other person in this world that does."

"Not Sig?" Edgar asked in a whisper.

"Ummm," Norman waffled, pulling his lower lip down and biting it, "I'm guessing Sig's gonna have a hard time swallowing this pill." Wavering for a second, Norman reluctantly continued, "And so you don't get upset with him when you find out, he took the ring off."

Edgar's face fell like a house of cards in a stiff breeze. Norman removed his hand off of his forearm and Edgar rolled to his side, curling up in the fetal position to hide the hurt. _After everything…he still doesn't have it on his finger. _He screwed his eyes shut but the tears forced themselves through his eyelashes and ran silently down his face, getting soaked up in the cotton fabric of the pillowcase.

"He's tore up inside, Edgar," Norman's voice broke slightly, laced heavily with emotions, "Deep down, I'm sure he knows you were following your heart instead of your head but I don't think that excuse is gonna hold up in court this time. Your sacrifice is more than he can bear right now…just like you felt when he gave the ring away. Just remember that, remember how you felt then, because that's how he feels now."

_That doesn't help. I never meant to cause him so much pain. _

Norman stayed for a few more minutes, passionately reassuring Edgar that Sig would, in fact, wear the ring again someday and patiently lulling his brother to sleep with his deep tenor and a gentle hand on his narrow shoulder. The soft sniffling and muffled hiccups died down to the occasional hitch of breath and even, light rises and falls of Edgar's chest.

As Norman consoled the little brother until he slept, he contemplated how he'd be able to successfully console the older one, all the while feeling like a linchpin beginning to stretch to the breaking point. _Draw on personal experiences just like I did with Edgar, that's how; Very recent personal experiences involving a paddle and big goddamn hug._

* * *

Only the sounds of metal clanking against metal gave away Sig's hiding place and Norman was quite stunned to find his older brother lifting weights in the basement. Working out wasn't a common activity for the oldest brother as Sig proudly preferred to develop his rippled abs and sculpted biceps through backbreaking, hard labor.

As Norman descended the basement steps, he spotted his bare-chested older brother sprawled out underneath the weight bench and pressing at least 180 lbs. over his head. _This is not a good sign_. "You should have a spotter for that weight," Norman said softly, approaching the makeshift gym in the corner of the basement.

A black, cylinder-shaped heavy bag hung from the ceiling on a short chain and various dumbbells and flat weights littered the odd carpet remnant, which happened to match the living room rug, lying on the concrete floor.

"What?" Sig strained under the bar as he struggled to lift it above his head, "You doubt I can do this, too?"

Norman outwardly groaned, frustrated that there was a lot of ground to cover between them tonight and now he'd have to tackle their petty squabble before moving on to the important topics. "You know I didn't mean shit about what I said."

"Yes, you did."

"Alright, whatever, Sig. Think what you want about it because obviously I ain't gonna change your mind. But I'm his big brother, too and I feel just as protective over him as you do. I saw that look on your face when you picked up Edgar's knife off the bathroom floor," Norman spun around and proceeded to the back wall of the basement near the steps.

Sig dropped the long weight bar back into place. Clutching onto the metal bar and gazing up at the drop ceiling tiles, he asked naively, "What look?"

Norman called from around the steps, "That look." _And not the 'pitying' look Edgar was complaining about earlier in the week. In fact, the look I'm talking about is quite the opposite of that look._

Sig sat up, almost knocking his head into the bar, "WHAT look?"

"The same look you had when that mob guy was telling us what happened tonight at the Shack. THE 'I'm gonna kill him' look."

Sig scrunched his eyes in doubt. _I don't have A look._ He listened to the door of the antiquated, snow white Kenmore icebox open and shut and the clinking of glass tapping against glass. Two pops and two soft hisses came next, followed by Norman returning to the gym with two amber-colored Budweiser Cold Draft bottles in his hands.

"So I got a little worried, that's all. I should have known better and I'm sorry," Norman defended his position, aided by the offering of alcohol to his older brother as he held out one beer bottle in front of Sig's face.

Sig didn't move to take the bottle except to glare sternly at his younger brother and the other bottle in his own hand.

"Jesus Christ, Sig! Have a fucking beer, will ya? Just be my bro for the next thirty minutes instead of Mr. Mike Brady from the fucking Brady Bunch. I can't take this perfect parenting shit right now," Norman stared his brother down, taking a swig of his own beer and making a tempting 'Ahhh' after he swallowed the bitter but refreshing liquid.

"I should ground your ass," Sig said, his words worthless as he took the bottle offered and gave into temptation. _Nobody's driving, Edgar's asleep and I don't have the energy to fight both the urge and Norman. One beer ain't gonna kill either one of us…God knows we had more than one beer more times than I can count._

Norman took another hearty sip, his throat thick as he quipped, "Only if I can call offa work tomorrow? Do you think my boss would be understanding if I said 'my big brother grounded me so I'm stuck at home?' How'd you think he'd take that?" He settled himself right next to his brother on the weight bench, straddling the red padded cushion with his massive thighs on either side.

"Then you'd be grounded AND jobless," Sig grumbled, eyeing Norman out of the corner of his eye.

Scrutinizing his brother's physique, Norman noted Sig's biceps had grown more chiseled over the last few weeks. "You've gotten stacked," Norman changed the topic, tipping the icy cold bottle against Sig's brawny arm, "When'd ya get so defined?" Feeling his place among the brothers as the 'strong' one was being mildly threatened, Norman felt a pang of insecurity.

Sig jumped as the cold bottle touched his hot, sweaty skin and he flinched away, giving Norman an exasperated look. He stood up and faced his brother, "It's called hard work. Not all of us get to hang out in the air conditioning all summer, counting screws and hammers and dusting off shelves."

Norman's face split into a wide grin, his cheeks almost touching his eyelashes, "Hard work pays off, then. Perhaps the sexy female police officer took notice, too. Did you get to talk to her?"

"Geez, Norman, let me think," Sig said sarcastically, "Oh yeah, I did and, in between her scolding me to keep my little brother out of trouble this summer, I managed to slip in that I think she's smoking hot and I'd like to take her out on a date." Sig took a big swallow of his beer and glared at his brother, "God, Norman, she's in her twenties and not interested in a guy who just went to the prom. Hell, she'd have to arrest me if she caught me drinking this," Sig held up the bottle of beer, now feeling guilty for giving into the temptation.

"Man," Norman reflected on Sig's fear of being arrested by the pretty female cop, "That's kinda sexy if you think about it."

"I know," Sig said with a wry, shrewd smile as if the thought had already crossed his mind once or twice.

"Those handcuffs could be…"

"OK, enough," Sig stopped Norman with a firm hand on his shoulder. He sat back down on the weight bench, spreading his knees wide and balancing the bottle on the bench between them.

Norman shifted his left leg around the bench and sat next to his brother, their hips and thighs touching. He bounced his knee against Sig's a few times and waited for his brother to get on with their discussion. The middle brother was inclined to let Sig take the lead.

With a deep sigh, the stagnant, cool basement air felt suddenly heavy and Sig's shoulders slumped into a defeated, exhausted posture. "You got the blood off?"

"Yeah."

"He feels…better?"

"Yes."

"Eat?"

"No."

"Asleep now?"

"Yup."

"Say anything to you?"

"That he's sorry he lied."

"He should be."

"He is."

"God knows I am."

"What?"

"Sorry…"

"For what?"

Sig shook his head, looking off into the dark alcoves of the basement, "I taught him how to play poker."

_I knew this was coming…_"Yes you did," Norman said flatly, "And I modified his motor bike so the damn thing can practically fly."

"And your point is…"

…_so I've already prepared my cross examination, Your Honor._ "My point is," Norman carefully explained, taking a swig of beer "I fixed up his bike so he could be the best racer on the junior circuit. I did NOT fix up his bike so he could ride in illegal races and sell the fucking thing to make money for his 'grand scheme.' And you taught him to play poker so you and he could just have fun on boring, TV-less summer nights. You didn't teach him how to play poker so he could gamble with a bunch of gangsters and thugs in an illegal poker game. Those were solely his decisions."

"Good points," Sig admitted wisely, moving on to the other things eating away at his stomach, "And what is with him being so worried about money? Did I let my own anxieties over money show that much? Our family's finances are not something he should even be thinking about at his age."

"He's a smart kid, Sig," Norman reminded his brother, "He knows a lot more than he lets on and I'm sure he figured out the hospital bills would only add to our problems." _And you think I didn't think about that, too? The bigger of the two hospital bills coming in the mail is from my own surgery. It's been weighing on my mind all week, especially since dad called and seemed so worried about the boat repairs. _Norman drank a long sip, trying to block out his own worries_._

"I'm sorry but…" Sig stood up and began to pace, taking slow sips of beer as he strolled aimlessly around the weight bench, "…that's like a slap in the face to me, like I can't take care of us when it comes to money."

Norman snorted, rolling his eyes, "That's just your male ego talking, which we both know is easily bruised when it comes to guys providing for their families. But don't you think dad feels the same way knowing that his #1 son has been secretly paying off the electric and sewer bills since mom died?"

Sig shot Norman a remorseless look but remained silent.

"Yeah, he knows," Norman crossed his arms over his wide chest, "What? Did you think he is some kinda dummy and wouldn't eventually notice the bills mysteriously got paid every month?"

Sig pursed his lips together, "I was hoping he mistakenly believed mom set up an auto-pay every month."

"Me too," Norman grumbled, setting his beer bottle on the floor, "So I didn't think he'd notice the water bill got mysteriously paid every month, too…by me. But he gets the bank statements in the mail so he must have figured it out by now, even if he hasn't said anything. Dad's got a bigger ego than all three of us put together but he doesn't seem to mind the extra cash right now."

"I want to help our father out and make sure we survive," Sig threw up his free hand, "And, apparently, so do you. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Norman clarified, "But Edgar can't help but see that. He sees us pitching in and he wants to pull his fair share."

"He doesn't have a 'fair share.' He's fucking thirteen years old. His only share is doing the dishes, mowing the lawn, vacuuming the house and all his other daily chores," Sig said with frustration, his bare chest heaving, "Not trying to swindle money in an illegal poker game to help with the bills."

"Again, his decision; It had nothing to do with anything either one of us has done or said so you can't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong when it comes to money this summer. I cannot remember you ever complaining to or around Edgar about money so he went with his initiative on this," Norman nodded his head up once and then down, pleased with himself and his logical arguments against Sig's illogical guilt, "What's next?"

Sig didn't have to think long about the next concern on his list, "Did I make a mistake by not punishing him last week when all this came out?"

_I suspected this doubt was coming, too._ "No," Norman said firmly, "You were absolutely right. He was being forced to go there and race illegally. That was NOT his fault, even though he may believe differently. This time, however, no one forced him to go back there. Again, it was solely Edgar's decision."

"Then didn't he even consider the punishment he'd get for this crazy stunt?" Sig spoke as if he was talking to himself and not Norman, "If those guys hadn't killed each other, he would have come home and given me the ring back at some point. And, of course, I'd know where he got it. Didn't he think I'd go nuts when I found out where he was and what he was up to?"

_Kinda like you're going nuts right now_. "Oh, I'm sure he thought about it," Norman said with perfect understanding, "Just like I thought about what you would do to me when I disobeyed you and followed you and Nick to the Shack this past weekend."

"And how long did you think about the consequences before you made your decision?" Sig regretted the question before he asked it.

"About three seconds," Norman answered honestly, looking up at his brother with his head down.

"And here I thought I was the intimidating big brother," Sig groused, "Am I that ineffective as a disciplinarian?"

"Was dad?" Norman raised his head, "Come on, Sig, get real. How many times did you and I pull wild stunts, like sneaking out of the house or drinking dad's liquor, which…by the way…we're doing right now, all the while knowing full well there was a strong chance we'd get caught and end up lying over that kitchen table, getting our asses handed to us? I'll answer my own question…A LOT!"

"We got away with A LOT, too," Sig smiled a little.

"It was the risk we took," Norman's face remained serious, "And we knew the consequences for breaking the rules."

"But this wasn't something Edgar was gonna get away with," Sig scrunched his nose, "There was no escaping the consequences this time."

"So he weighed them out," Norman explained, "And decided it was worth the risk. You know when I punched that guy in middle school, the one that was bullying you about your braces?"

"I vaguely remember," Sig cocked his eyebrow sarcastically.

"I bet you do," Norman shook his head, "I knew that day, walking to school, I was gonna kick that kid's ass. And I knew I'd get in trouble for it, both at school and at home, but the trouble was worth it to me."

Sig closed his eyes and paced around the back of the weight bench. _I don't want my younger brothers making sacrifices for me. It should be the other way around._

Norman followed his brother's movements, analyzing Sig's mood carefully, "I'm not making excuses for Edgar's decisions tonight or mine that day in middle school or even when I went to the Shack and punched Joe's teeth out. All those things deserve some kind of consequence, some kind of…reminder…not to do something so reckless and stupid again."

Sig sat down with a heavy sigh, placing the beer next to him, "I don't wanna think about the consequences right now."

"Don't you think you should?"

"Not while I'm this angry and frustrated," Sig explained, "I know there has to be some heavy consequences for his actions but I'm lost on the 'why.' Our youngest brother is so damn stubborn it seems like there's nothing I can do that will make a difference. If he makes up his mind that his disobedience, lying or reckless behaviors somehow outweigh the punishment, what's the point? It doesn't seem like the fear of a spanking or grounding has any impact on him."

Norman hid a smile by biting the inside of his lip. "It's not the punishment that makes the difference."

A confused look crossed Sig's face, "Huh?"

"It's the explanations that come before it, remember?" Norman said causally, "For instance, if today, I were faced with the same decision to disobey you and go to the Shack, I wouldn't go."

Sig felt the tiniest glimmer of hope rise in his chest. _Please tell me something makes the difference because I can't let my kid brother keep thinking he can disobey me just because he believes it's worth it._

"I wouldn't go because I understand now what my actions could have done to you and Edgar and myself," Norman nodded to accentuate his point, "I didn't think about foster care or college or anything like that before you brought it to my attention. Now, I understand and, if I had it to do all over again, I'd make a different choice. The paddling I got was just the punctuation to the explanation."

Sig smiled wide, "Like an exclamation point!" _ Mom did always insist we punctuate our sentences._

"A Big One!" Norman smiled back, "And it also was a good way to let go of what I was feeling: guilt, shame, disappointment in myself. So before you start thinking that the punishments don't matter, that they're not effective, remember this; Edgar didn't take the money. In the end, he thought about what he did and stopped himself from making an even bigger mistake. And he was the one who tried to stop me from making my own mistakes when I disobeyed you. Your punishments have been effective and they do make a difference."

"Not this time they didn't," Sig sounded broken, "He still disobeyed me and put himself in so much danger. This time, I really need him to understand that it is never gonna be OK under any circumstance."

"So then you don't give up. Be consistent and keep trying. Sig," the middle brother's smile vanished, "I'm not telling you what to do, that decision weighs solely on you and it ain't my place. But I will tell you that there's something reassuring in knowing that when the rules have been broken, someone's gonna be there to consistently lay down the law without throwing in the towel, regardless of how many times it happens."

"I threw in the towel this week," Sig ran a hand through his hair, "I should have talked to him after I lost it Monday night and hollered at him."

"Yes," Norman refused to sugar-coat this part of the conversation, saving his reserve of sweetener for later topics, "Maybe you and Edgar wouldn't have slipped so far apart from each other in the last few days, but I truly believe nothing would have thwarted his plan." He took a big sigh, dreading this part of the conversation. _Better I tell him than Edgar_. "Our little brother had his mind made up about tonight long before the Tooth Fairy conversation ever took place."

"How long before?" Sig asked warily.

"Tonight, Edgar told me he came up with this scheme on Saturday, the day after they beat him." Norman squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the mini-explosion.

"He's been planning this SINCE SATURDAY!" Sig's voice grew louder with each word he uttered. His foot began to bounce on the concrete floor, shaking the weight bench slightly and causing the beer to almost tip over. Sig grabbed it and took a good, long swig, feelings of guilt over consuming alcohol temporarily erased.

"Shhh," Norman hissed, "Yes and I'm telling you that here for a couple of good reasons, one of which is so you can get upset about it now and not at Edgar later."

"There's not that much time in the world," Sig said through clenched teeth, incensed that he'd been hoodwinked for close to a week.

"Maybe so," Norman fired back, "But a good night's sleep may take the edge off." He didn't wait for a confirmation of his accurate assessment before continuing, "The other reason I'm telling you this is because you need to know that the fight you had with him on Monday had nothing to do with his decisions tonight. So don't delude yourself into believing it did. For close to a week, Mr. E. Hansen has been deceiving us into believing everything was just okey dokey and we no longer had anything to worry about when it came to Elliot and the whole freaking Shack debacle."

"Oh no," Sig said with new-found awareness, "He wasn't completely deceiving us. I think a lot of the 'I'm no longer a baby' shit wasn't just coming out of his frustration over his hands. Now that you told me this, I think a lot of his attitude and rollercoaster of emotions were because he was vacillating between convincing himself he's a 'big, tough guy' and feeling guilty about what he was planning." _Hindsight is 20/20…and a bitch!_

"Could be," Norman pondered Sig's words, "Or he was just really scared about what he was going to do."

"Then why, Norman?" Sig's voice had a deep ache attached to it and he looked at his brother with so much pain in his blue eyes, Norman's chest grew tight. The playful bantering, repressed anger and insightful pondering came to a sudden end and the heart of the conversation was about to begin, "If he was so afraid, which I'm sure he was, why'd he go back there?"

"You know why," Norman said softly, his eyes never leaving the pained expression on his brother's face. _I'm bringing the sugar._

"I can't take this," Sig muttered, placing the beer on the floor and burying his face in his hands.

Placing a gentle hand on Sig's back, Norman leaned in and whispered, "As twisted as it was, this was Edgar's way of showing you how much he loves you."

"No one deserves that much love." Sig was quietly crying, his shoulders heaving so faintly Norman wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't touching his brother and physically feeling each sob through his hand.

"You, of all people, deserve it," Norman said low and forcefully, "Sig, you've done more than just take care of us this summer. You brought Edgar back from an evil place more than once…and I don't mean the Shack, either. You saved his life and mine and you deserve a lot better than what either he or I can give you. Selling his bike and risking his safety…all to get that ring back…was Edgar's way of repaying you for everything you've done for us...from the ruptured appendix…to the lost pill…to saving Edgar from the Shack…to giving up your chance to be captain this summer. Believe me, I'm not saying what he did was right…because it wasn't. But I understand why."

_I do these things because I love the both of you. No one has to repay me for anything. _"But at what cost?" Sig openly whined his discomfort over Edgar's gesture, "He almost got killed over that ring."

"He never expected that."

"He expected something," Sig lifted his head and turned toward Norman, his fair skin blotchy and his eyes red-rimmed from crying, "He took a freaking knife down there. Didn't he have any idea how much worse it could have been if those assholes found he had a weapon on him?"

Norman could only shrug, doubtful that a thirteen year old had taken that risk into consideration. _ Maybe he did because he ignored a lot of risks in going back there._

"And now what?" Sig smashed the butt of his hands into his eyes, rubbing hard and futilely trying to cease the tears, "That ring….getting that ring back…Norman, it's one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me…and I have to punish him for it. Can you understand how that makes me feel?"

_I can't…I really can't_. Norman could do nothing but gently rub his older brother's back in small circles, recognizing he used the same gesture of love and comfort for Edgar just minutes before.

Sig let himself cry for a while, wallowing in self-pity and the anguish he was feeling about punishing his little brother again. After some time elapsed, he sobbed through his hands, "Norm, remember what you told me a few weeks ago when he broke his grounding."

"When he got in trouble for smoking Nick's cigarettes?"

"Yeah," Sig lifted his face out of his hands and stared off into space, tears still running down his stubby cheeks, "When we came home from work and he was gone. I got really pissed off and smashed that glass in the sink."

"And I told you not to take Edgar's actions personally," Norman recalled, still impressed with his perception at the time.

Sig turned his head to the side and glanced at his brother, "This time, how do I NOT take it personally?" It was another painful question highlighted by the angst and desperation in Sig's voice.

Norman tilted his head and shot from the hip, hoping the right words would come out, "I don't think this was just about you, Sig."

"Then what was it about?" Sig asked as he brushed the tears off his face with the back of his hands.

"I think you and Edgar need to figure that out together," Norman had it figured out, considering it was the most logical explanation backed by the most heartfelt reason. _This is about mom and finding a way to bring her back. I can understand that desire with absolute clarity. It makes perfect sense Edgar would feel the same way, even if he doesn't realize it. If mom were still alive, that ring wouldn't mean nearly as much as it does now. And mom could have easily purchased another ring and it would have still meant the same. But she can't because she's no longer with us…physically, anyway. That's what this is really all about._ "Come on, it's been a long night," Norman gulped down the remainder of his beer, "Let's sleep on it for a while."

"Wait a minute," Sig said, turning completely to the side and facing his younger brother. He looked Norman square in the eye and mulled over everything his young, seventeen year old brother just said, all of which confirmed his long suspicions Norman was truly a genius, IQ over 130 and all. "Next summer, when both dad and I are away, I know Edgar's gonna be in really good hands with you."

The praise came close to knocking Norman on his sculpted gluteus maximus and the rare event of the tough guy being rendered speechless occurred just like that. "Ummm…OK," He finally blurted out, acknowledging the moment would be etched in his memory until the day he died.

Sig smiled and stroked his brother's face. _I know, big guy._

Norman stood up and pretended to stretch, the moment getting to mushy for his liking.

Sig ignored the rest of his alcohol, the bottle only half finished. "Edgar's not going to the store with you tomorrow," he stated in a tone that broke no indifference.

"I didn't think so," Norman recovered, bending down and picked up Sig's bottle, "You want this?" _Cause I need it._

"No, I'll dump it down…" Sig didn't have time to finish his sentence before Norman tossed back Sig's beer and finished it for him.

When he swallowed the last of the beer, Norman tipped his head down and belched so loudly, the sound echoed off the basement walls. Sig groaned. Norman smiled.

Carrying the empty bottles over to the basement steps, Norman walked up the stairs and turned off the basement light, leaving his older brother sitting in total darkness.

"Come on, asshole," Sig called out from the dark basement, "Turn the light back on."

Norman smirked, waiting a second or two and then finally turned the light back on so his brother could make his way out of the darkness. Then he went out back and disposed of the empty beer bottles in the outside trash can, removing Edgar's jean jacket from the metal bucket and throwing it in the back of the truck. Norman glanced at the motor bike still chained to the truck bed. _It's coming to work with me because that kid ain't gonna be riding it for a long time._

Sig checked the house, making sure the windows were locked and turned up the central air. He liked the house to be practically freezing on summer nights. Then, both he and Norman went to their bedrooms, passing by Edgar's open bedroom door briefly and confirming their younger brother was still asleep.

* * *

Not long after Sig retired to his own bedroom, Edgar awoke to the haunting images of dead murderers, shady criminals and pools of sticky blood on bar room floors. It was the third, or perhaps, fourth time he had woken up in the last two hours, each time falling back into a light sleep only to be jarred awake again by the unconscious thoughts coming to the surface.

Edgar rolled onto his back, wincing slightly as the movement renewed his attention to the soreness of his hands. Staring up at the moonlit ceiling, he watched the clouds skimming across the full moon and casting playful shadows around his room. He tried to close his eyes but the powerfully frightening images kept returning and he finally gave up.

Slipping his feet to the floor, Edgar stood up from his bed and wandered over to his window. Sig had the air conditioning cranked up to full blast, just how he preferred it, and the rush of cool air tickled against Edgar's cover-warmed skin, causing him to shiver with goose bumps popping up on his bare flesh. He grabbed his white fleece blanket on the way and wrapped it around his shoulders, pulling it tightly around him to block out the chill.

Taking a place on his padded window seat, Edgar curled up against the window frame and rested his temple against the glass. The stars were plentiful, sparkling brightly in stark contrast to the black sky and Edgar searched for the Little Dipper with its telltale, crooked handle.

Despite the quietness of the house, Edgar never heard the footsteps approaching his bedroom.

"Do you see the North Star?" Sig asked in a soft whisper from the doorway, clad in a pair of thin sleep pants and oversized neon green Seattle Seahawks t-shirt.

The sudden, unexpected noise of his brother's deep voice caused Edgar's stomach to flip but, on the outside, he remained still and seemingly unfazed. "Still looking," he answered quietly, continuing to glance out the window.

"You should be sleeping," Sig entered the dark room and stopped halfway in. His little brother looked so young, curled up in his blanket. _I'm still pissed off and worried sick but I can try and forget about it for a while._

"I can't stop seeing their faces and all that blood," Edgar murmured toward the glass, "Maybe if I hadn't been there, they'd still be alive. Maybe it's my fault they're…"

"Stand up," Sig commanded firmly.

Edgar turned his gaze away from the window and stared up at his oldest brother. The sharp order startled him for a moment. Unsure of what to expect but obeying the directive, Edgar dropped the blanket. He slid off the seat and stood up, directly in front of Sig, his head bowed in submission as he studied the floor. _Maybe he's not waiting until tomorrow. Maybe I'll be going to bed with a sore backside after all_.

When Sig put a hand on both of Edgar's bare shoulders and turned him around, the youngest brother felt his fears confirmed and awaited the expected volley of swats surely coming to his boxer-covered bottom. He even leaned forward slightly, offering his insubordinate bottom out for punishment, and prepared to brace himself against the window frame.

Sig felt his brother bending forward a little so he held on tightly to Edgar's shoulders, "Ah, we're a long, long way from that part of our discussion." He pulled Edgar closer to him and took a few steps towards the windowsill, partially dragging his brother with him by his wrist.

Picking up the blanket with one hand, Sig sat down on the windowsill and spread his legs wide, leaving a space for Edgar to sit down. Sig propped one leg up in the wooden seat, his knee pressed against the glass. He pulled Edgar down by his wrist and settled him in between his legs with Edgar's back and head resting against Sig's chest so they both could look at the stars.

When Edgar was comfortable, Sig draped the blanket over both of them and wrapped both arms tightly around his brother over the soft, fleece material.

Edgar had to bite his lip to keep himself from crying. _I swear to God, having your arms around me like this makes me feel like I'm in the safest place in the world, like nothing could ever hurt me._ The solid chest behind his back and head provided him with the safety and security he'd been longing for all week.

Sig felt Edgar melt against him, going flaccid and letting him take the weight of his head and shoulders against his neck and chest. Sig tightened his arms briefly, a small squeeze of acknowledgement that he was there for his little brother regardless of how angry and disappointed he was.

"Listen to me, please," Sig spoke just above a whisper, his brother's ear close to his lips and clearly within hearing of every little motion or noise he made. He sighed deeply, watching a few strains of Edgar's hair waft around in his exhaled breath. "Those guys sealed their own fate a long time ago. What happened tonight would have happened whether you were there or not. I don't ever want you to think you caused their deaths either directly or indirectly."

_I know Sig's right but..._"Elliot almost shot me," Edgar stated the information like he was reading the newspaper and needing to get it off his mind, "He was standing there with a gun pointed right at my chest."

Sig literally felt his heart clench so tightly in his own chest, he had to gasp for breath and he started coughing for air.

"You should try to quit smoking again," Edgar admonished his brother, figuring Sig was coughing because of the cigarettes.

"You (cough)…ummm….you(cough)….you're right…(cough)," Sig choked out. _It's the first of many heart-stopping moments I'll have to hear about tomorrow…better get used to it._

"Have you ever had your life flash before your eyes?" Edgar asked in a dreamlike voice, "I mean, like, really see everything in a few minutes."

"(Cough) Did that…mmm…happen to you?"

"Yeah," Edgar admitted, "It really happened. It was scary…and peaceful…at the same time."

Sig swallowed down the lump in his throat and said softly, "I've had some close calls where I've almost wrecked my car…and some other near death experiences…but I can't say I ever saw anything. Maybe that is because I was too focused on trying to save myself." _Or the person saving me. _"So what did you see?"

"I saw you and Norman laughing together. I could hear you both laughing and it made me want to be with you guys. And I saw Mommy, her long hair shining in the sun. Dad, too, when he smiles every now and then. Mostly, I just felt love all around me." _Like right now._

Sig nuzzled his nose against Edgar's hair, "Because you ARE loved."

"I know…I didn't forget. I did a lot of bad things tonight but I didn't do that. If anything, I remembered just how much I'm loved," Edgar said shyly. _Nobody draws into a full house needing two Queens and wins. Someone that loves me very much had to have given me a little help. Wonder if that's considered cheating?_ Freeing a bandaged hand from under the blanket, Edgar lightly placed it over Sig's forearm. Even through the gauze, Edgar could feel the soft, blond hairs on his brother's arm tickling his palm, "Did you want to…talk about this…now?"

"No," Sig said with absolute certainty

"You still mad?"

"Very," Sig spoke softly, his tone in stark contrast with the word, "And I'm gonna be for a while."

"Oh," Edgar said in a light whisper, glancing down at Sig's right hand, "Is that why you're not wearing your ring?"

"Ed…gar," Sig drew out the name, "Not now, OK?" _We're both tired and shaken up and I'm trying to get you to relax. The last thing we need is to rehash everything and I don't have the patience to explain why that ring isn't on my finger._

"Yes, sir," Edgar spoke softly. _I got it back so you could wear it but I guess just you having it is enough for me. Its your ring, you can do what you want with it._

_Enough about the ring._ "Look, there's the Little Dipper." Sig pointed out the window into the north sky, changing the course of their conversation, "And the handle of the Little Dipper with…"

"The North Star…it's the one at the end of the handle, right?"

"Yup," Sig said with a smile, "Every sailor needs to know how to find it. Remember, if you're ever lost at sea, point the bow towards the North Star, turn a quarter to starboard and you'll be home in no time."

"What happens if I turn to port?"

"You'll have to learn to speak Russian real quick."

Edgar chuckled and rubbed his cheek against Sig's upper arm, finally getting sleepy again. The two of them spoke quietly about the different constellations, Sig identifying Draco the Dragon and Cancer the Crab among just a few. After a while, the eldest brother noticed Edgar had fallen asleep in his arms.

"Come on," Sig gently woke him up, loving him to pieces but unwilling to sleep against the windowsill, "Bed, kid."

Edgar woke enough to get up and take a few steps before leaning against his brother and almost collapsing. Sig picked him up in one swoop, cradling him and depositing him on the soft mattress. He returned to the window and picked up the fallen blanket off the floor. Covering Edgar with the fleece, he turned to leave.

"Can you stay?" Edgar asked, half asleep.

"I thought you were too big for that," Sig couldn't resist teasing just a tad.

"Stay…monsters in the…closet."

"Really?" Sig asked in feigned disbelief, climbing in the bed and cuddling next to his little brother, a strong arm tossed over Edgar's side. _Monsters in the closet, my ass. You're talking in your sleep, little boy._ Sig was asleep a few minutes later.

On the other hand, Norman was fully awake, lying in his bed and listening to the deep and light voices of his brothers coming from Edgar's room. Although he couldn't make out a word they were saying, it totally didn't matter…they were talking to each other. _Everyone is safe…Well, hopefully dad's safe, too._ Norman leaned over and knocked against his wooden headboard lightly. _ And tomorrow's gonna be a long day of hashing out the peace treaty._

~tbc


	49. The Modern Viking

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I took a week off from writing. Hopefully, these two chapters will make up for it.**

* * *

Despite the physical and mental exhaustion, as well as Sig's brawny arm to burrow under, Edgar continued to sleep restlessly throughout the night. At times, he'd sleep fitfully for a solid hour, other times just a few minutes. Each time, he'd awaken with a hard startle, his body jumping up from the mattress and causing the entire bed to shake.

The sounds of the gunshots still rang in the young teenager's ears. Closing his eyes only brought back the image of Elliot's haunting face as he aimed the gun in his direction. The darkness of the long barrel was as frightening as the man's expression.

Sig's sleep was interrupted with each powerful shudder his brother made. Holding Edgar closer and shushing him back to sleep only brought temporary reprieves to his own exhaustion.

By 5:30 in the morning, both brothers gave up trying to sleep and lay quietly on their backs in Edgar's spacious bed, listening to Norman's loud snoring coming from the other room. The bluebirds had begun to sing and rustle the tree branches in the back yard, fluttering back and forth as they hunted meaty worms for their young chicks. Daylight had started filtering into the large bedroom but the sky remained a gray, dreary shade of putty and offered little comfort against the fading darkness of night.

Sig stretched out his long frame to its full length, his toes reaching the bed's footboard and resting against the shellacked wood. His body ached from yesterday's work and the weather was only exacerbating the pain. _Rain's coming. I can feel it; another rainy day in Seattle. Why'd our family pick here of all places to call home? _

Edgar's uneven, nervous breathing next to him told Sig his brother was already wide awake. The grumbling, gurgling sounds from the young boy's belly also enlightened Sig to his baby brother's need for sustenance.

"Rough night, huh?" Sig stated the obvious. _ It's gonna be a rough day, too. _

"Bad nightmares," Edgar whispered back, stretching like Sig did and unconsciously mimicking his brother. The difference was his bare feet were close to a foot from touching the footboard. "REAL bad."

The bed creaking from his shifting weight, Sig rolled onto his side and bent his elbow, propping up his head in the palm of his right hand, "If I went through what you went through, I imagine I'd have really bad nightmares, too." The eldest brother raised his left hand off his hip and ran it lightly on Edgar's cheek, brushing the tangled hair out of his eyes. He spoke in a sympathetic, yet convincing, voice, "But they're just dreams, Edgar. Those men can't hurt you anymore." Retracting his hand, Sig let his arm rest back on his hip.

Laying on his back and staring up, Edgar stated quietly, "I've never had anyone look at me like that." He thought of those greenish-yellow, catlike eyes filled with rage and trembled from the memory, "I won all that money and Elliot went crazy. It all happened so fast. I was just so happy I won and then I looked up and saw him standing there with his gun. I don't even know where the gun came from. He looked at me with so much hatred on his face and I knew he would have killed me if he had gotten the chance. No one has ever hated me enough to want to kill me. I mean, actually want to KILL me."

Sig studied his youngest brother's profile. The baby-faced teenager with the smooth, unblemished skin, ruddy cheeks and perfectly sloped nose looked just as a child should; innocent, trusting, full of life and untouched by the evils of the world. For Sig, it was unfathomable that anyone could hate his kid brother at all, let alone try and murder him.

_Only a psychopath could be so heartless and morally corrupted to kill a child._ "I know this is hard for you to understand but Elliot was mentally unstable, a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. Look," Sig reached over and placed his large hand over Edgar's injured one, "He beat you up over just a few hundred dollars. There was something very, very off with him."

"He was sort of nice to me when I first started hanging out down there," Edgar muttered wistfully, still struggling to comprehend that kind of evil, "I thought he was cool, like a badass leader of some secret gang and, at the time, I wanted to be a badass, too. He paid attention to me, especially after he found out I could race." He looked over and caught Sig's eye, "But I guess it was all just an act."

"Although he was crazy, I think Elliot had a way of grooming people into doing what he wanted. How else could he have been so successful at running the Shack and managing his thugs for as long as he did?" Sig was a little in awe over this conversation. _I did not expect, nor did I ever want, to talk about Elliot Neese again…but here we are…talking about him. Maybe this will put the bastard to rest in Edgar's mind._ "He manipulated you from the very beginning and, when you finally got the best of him, he couldn't accept it. So, he lost it."

_That's an understatement._ "He really lost it," Edgar thought, "I can't believe I ever liked him. I must have been really messed up after mom died not to see it but he was a really bad man."

"He was," Sig answered, a little more forcefully than he intended, "Which is why I didn't want you going back there."

Edgar remained silent, uncertain if Sig was ready to launch into the long awaited conversation this early in the morning.

Although there was a lot to say, Sig still wasn't ready. He was torn between the feelings of anger and confusion over the whole event and the feelings of hopelessness in finding just the right words to convince his youngest brother never to pull such a reckless stunt again.

Ultimately, frustration got the better of the eldest brother. In a heartbroken voice, Sig whispered desperately, "You promised me, Edgar. You made me a promise never to go back there…and I understood breaking that promise when you were blackmailed into going…but, this time…you deliberately went back."

At that moment, Edgar sensed the conversation was about to take a turn and he shifted slightly towards the wall, away from his oldest brother. Unconsciously, he wanted to get away from the hurt in his Sig's voice. _I caused that._

Watching his little brother slinking away from him, Sig experienced a pang of regret over hollering at him so violently during the Tooth Fairy conversation. _Oh man, I have some damage control to do before we can move forward. This may complicate matters. Keep my temper in check. As much as I want to scream at him, it's not gonna help. I need him to listen to everything I have to say and he can't do that if he shuts down._ "What, you're afraid of me?" Sig asked in the most casual tone he could muster.

"You're really mad," Edgar clarified the separation. _ I've never seen you so mad. Last night, as you walked over to me at the dumpster, I was really afraid you were gonna hit me. And then the knife fell out of my pocket in the bathroom and you got that same look on your face._

"Yes, I am," Sig said calmly, "But you have to know by now I'd never hit you out of anger. Jesus, if I wanted to, I could have dragged you home last night and whipped the tar out of you."

Edgar gulped, swallowing hard and causing his developing Adam's apple to bob up and down, "Maybe it would have been easier if you did."

_For who? You? Me? Both of us? It's so not about what's easier._ "Would I have made a bigger impression on you if I did?" the eldest brother asked, very curious as to the answer he'd get.

"I don't know. I knew I was gonna get punished for this so I guess it doesn't matter when it happens," Edgar pondered the honest question, then said something he'd come to regret, "But even if I knew for certain you were gonna take your belt to me, I still would have gone down there last night." _It's the truth._

"Are you telling me…" Sig felt the anger building, "…that there is nothing I could have done to prevent you from acting on this stupid, reckless, ridiculous idea of yours?"

Edgar opened his mouth to speak but Sig stopped him, "Think carefully before you answer that question, Edgar."

"Ummm…" Edgar hesitated, "…do you want me to be honest or not?"

Sig eyed his brother cautiously, "Honest…always."

"Then you're not gonna like the answer." Edgar nodded to himself, assured he was absolutely correct.

_I may come to regret this._ "Give it to me anyway."

"No," Edgar rolled on his side, facing his brother and giving him direct eye contact, "Once I had my mind made up, nothing was gonna stop me, not even the fear of facing those guys again or the punishment I was gonna get after you found out about it."

Sig rolled onto his back, sighing with exasperation and glaring intensely at the small crack living on Edgar's ceiling since Mount St. Helena erupted in '80 and set off a series of earthquakes in the area. The boys and their father had spent the better part of that week afterwards clearing up branches from the yard and replacing the shingles on the roof. _I asked for the honest truth and I got it. So why am I so fucking pissed off?_ "Too stubborn for your own good," he muttered out loud.

"Can I have a chance to explain why?" Edgar stared at his brother's profile. The young adult with the tan complexion, freckles from prolonged exposure to the sun, chiseled cheekbones that would shelter a small child in the rain and a hearty smattering of blond whiskers dotting his chin and upper lip looked more worn out than any 18 year old his age should.

"Do I not always give you a chance to explain yourself?" Sig asked in a hard voice. _Not that your explanations are going to matter. I already know what you're gonna say. This time, it's my explanations that will be more important._

"You've always heard me out," Edgar said quietly, "And I really appreciate that you've listened to my side of the story. It means a lot to me, even if you and I both knew I was wrong."

"This time, you were very wrong…" Sig closed his eyes and exhaled, "…on multiple levels. And I'm pretty sure I know why you did what you did but I'm still willing to listen." _Maybe hearing your thought process will help me understand…and then I can effectively pulverize your distorted logic into tiny particles._

"Here's what we'll do," the eldest brother folded his hands over his chest, nestling his interlaced fingers in the indent of his breast bone, "I will lay here and respectfully listen to everything you have to say. I'll even keep my interruptions down to a minimum and hold my comments until later. _An arduous task, but I'll try_. Then, when you're done explaining, we'll go downstairs and have breakfast. Afterwards, I get to have MY say and YOU WILL respectfully listen to me."

"Alright," Edgar said warily, "But I just don't want you to think I'm trying to get outta something cause I'm not. I ain't trying to justify what I did because I know I broke the rules. The stuff I did last night was wrong…"

Right from the start, Sig interrupted, "…But not wrong enough to stop you, though."

_I'm being honest the whole way. No more lies._ "Yes, because I believed that what I was doing was worth breaking the rules for," Edgar spoke with conviction in his voice.

"It wasn't" Sig said flatly, deflating some of his youngest brother's confidence, "And we will definitely talk about that later but go ahead and explain this all to me. I'm all ears." He continued to stare up at the ceiling, waiting patiently and reminding himself of all the summer promises he still intended to keep despite the strain being placed on his resolutions.

With a quick swallow to replenish the saliva in his parched throat, Edgar laid his cards out on the table. _I wish you'd look at me but maybe it's easier this way._ In a soft but steady voice, he spoke as he studied his brother's profile. "The night they beat me up, Elliot and his friends were talking about the big poker tournament on Thursday. That's why there was so much money lying around in the bar and why Elliot was so upset it went missing. He thought I took it but, I swear, I never touched his money."

"I know," Sig said softly, closing his eyes briefly.

"After you saved me that night, all I could think about was how stupid I was not to tell you and Norman what was really going on; why I was really going down there and hiding it from you for so long. Sig, I felt so bad, I couldn't even put it into words,"

"I know this, too," the oldest brother whispered.

Edgar carried on with his explanation, "The morning after they…hurt me…I couldn't stop thinking about what I did to you, the lies and stuff. Then, I remembered the poker tournament and thought it was a good way to try and get your ring back and maybe some money to help with the hospital bills."

Sig bit the inside of his lip, tasting blood and licking the bitter liquid. _My intelligent best friend and brother was right to tell me this last night and not wait and let Edgar tell me for the first time today. Otherwise, I'd be sorely tempted to strangle this kid right now for keeping this plan to himself for close to a week_. _And the damn money for bills…God, that still needles my pride._

"But I didn't have any money and that was a major problem," Edgar reflected.

_One of many, Edgar._

Edgar was mentally reliving the conception of his grand plan, "Then, when you were washing Norm's truck that morning, I saw my bike sitting on top of it and I came up with the rest. I knew Elliot wanted my bike for a long time and the plan seemed to come together perfectly." _You know, this plan was pretty genius if you think about it._

_Perfectly? Really? _Sig took a deep breath in through his nose and out of his mouth, drawing the air very, very slowly from his lungs.

_OK, hard part._ Edgar fessed up, "Yesterday morning, I lied to Norman about being sick to my stomach, which actually turned out to be true. Then I left a note that was all lies about going to Matt's house and everything, sort of like an alibi. I didn't want you guys to come looking for me."

Sig counted backwards from ten, picturing the cardboard numbers running around the park just like in Sesame Street. _And why would we come looking for you, Edgar? Because you were putting your life in danger, maybe? Because you knew you weren't allowed back there? Because you knew I'd be furious!_

"After I wrote the note, I found dad's bike paperwork and rode down to the Shack with it. The old guy, Elliot's boss, I think, and his friends weren't there yet and I had to convince Elliot to let me play. I told him he could keep the bike if he'd give me money for it and let me play a few hands. He told me if I lied to his boss about what happened to my hands and face, he'd let me stick around and play in the tournament."

"And did you? Lie, that is?" Sig asked quietly, refusing to look at his brother. _I shouldn't really care if you lied to a gaggle of gangsters_.

"Yes, I lied to that old guy, Jun, but I don't think he believed me," Edgar smiled at the thought of the old man. _I really kinda liked him…in a scary kinda way._ "They told me they would play cards with me for a little bit before the 'real' poker began. I think Puss and Dickie just played to help me but Elliot was really good and they went bust. It was just him and me, then. Jesus, Sig, there was a lot of money on the table, more than I've ever seen in my life…even on TV. _ Why didn't I take the money again? Oh yeah, right, what I was doing was illegal._ Do you wanna know what hands I won on?"

"NO!" Sig said firmly.

Edgar was a little saddened his brother didn't care to know about the back-to-back monster hands he had. _An Ace High Straight and a Full Boat of Queens over Threes doesn't happen often, let alone in the same night_. "Anyway, I got Elliot to put your ring in the pot so, when I won, I picked it up and slipped it in my pocket. That's when everything went…south."

Somewhere along the way of Edgar's explanation, Sig realized he had his work cut out for him, "And now? Now that everything is over, do you still think your actions were worth almost getting shot, witnessing a double murder and giving your brothers a freaking heart attack when the cops called the house?"

Edgar was taken aback. _ When you say it like that…_"Sig, you gotta believe I didn't mean for things to turn out like they did, with people getting murdered and me almost getting shot and in trouble with the cops."

"I do believe that, kid. You don't have to convince me of that, but…" Sig asked inquisitively, "…when you came up with this plan, how did you foresee things going?

"I was hoping to just go there, win your ring back and come home." _Sounded simple and easy enough_.

Sig growled low, "And face me?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar voice held a faint tremor, "I knew you'd be fuming mad but I would have told you the truth about where I was and how I got your ring back." _How else would I have explained it: Elliot dropped the ring off at our house on his way to church and apologized for all his sins? _

_I actually believe that._ "Just out of curiosity," Sig mused, "How were you planning on getting home if you lost…if you lost your bike and all your illegally acquired money?"

"I didn't think about losing so I didn't really have a plan for that," Edgar said with a cocky smile and a little swagger.

It was a good thing Sig missed the smug look because it would have surely driven him over the edge. _ Why do you sound so proud of yourself, little boy?_ "Did you even really think about all the danger you were putting yourself in?"

"I tried not to think about it." Edgar confessed, swagger fading like white laundry left out in the sun too long, "But I was so nervous yesterday, I threw up all day."

"Oh, baby brother," the offensive word slipped out of Sig's mouth, a stab of pity for his young brother's anxiety hitting him straight in the chest, "Maybe that should have told you something."

_Probably…but I wasn't listening._ Edgar answered, "The only thing it told me was that I should bring some kind of protection with me this time."

Sig almost smiled…almost. _And not the kind of protection Norman likes to preach about, although I wish this time it was._ "The knife?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar answered, "I know dad taught us never, ever to use our fishing knives for anything but fishing and outdoor stuff, telling us like a million times that knives aren't toys to be played around with. Heck, he even gave me a week's grounding when he found me using my knife as a screwdriver to hang up my guitar rack."

Snorting, Sig huffed, "You're lucky he didn't wring your neck."

"I know," Edgar grinned a little, "I think that was around the time he had shingles and wasn't feeling so good."

"Norman and I didn't get so lucky," Sig eyeballed Edgar out of the corner of his eye, "We were playing pirates or some dumb thing in the back yard when dad caught us using our knives as makeshift swords. Let me tell you, he felt perfectly fine that day…which, by the way…I am also feeling perfectly fine today, in case you're wondering."

"Glad to hear it. Shingles sounds really painful," Edgar pushed his lips to one side. _No one gets that lucky twice._

"Dad said they were pretty agonizing," Sig said before redirecting the conversation, "So you thought the knife would be a good idea, a way to protect yourself in the event several guys twice or three times your size and strength with guns decided to attack you…again."

_Wow, that sounds pretty stupid but that's what I did._ "Maybe…I could have used it to defend myself long enough to get away and…"

"Edgar," Sig interrupted, forgetting again about not interrupting, "You couldn't even hold the damn thing in your hands."

"I would have found a way," the youngest brother said defensively, "I can hold things…it just really hurts but it doesn't mean I can't."

Sig gave up on keeping quiet, "And if you did get attacked and you had to defend yourself, what would you have done…stabbed someone? Hurt someone? Kill someone?"

"I…I…" Edgar stammered, "I…don't think…no…just to get away." _I could never do that. I could never hurt someone like that. But what would have happened if they tried to abuse me again? I would have done anything to get away. Oh my God, what was I thinking?_ A burning sensation ran down Edgar's throat and he almost gagged, "I just didn't want them to hurt me again…like they did before."

"Neither did I," Sig choked a little on the words, "It broke my heart when they beat you…Norman's, too. You missed out on that because you were drugged up from the hospital. We both went ape-shit crazy that night because someone hurt you so badly. But I went back there and made sure it wasn't going to happen to you again. They weren't gonna hurt you anymore as long as you stayed away from them and that place. Yet, after everything you went through, all the pain you suffered and all Norman and I did to keep you safe, you still went back there."

_I don't know how to explain this._ "I needed to face them," Edgar stared blankly beyond his brother's profile and off into space, "As scared as I was, I wanted to let them know they didn't get the best of me or my family."

Sig pounced on his brother's explanation, "SO it was for revenge." _ Just like Norman's reasons for going back?_

"NOOO, sir," Edgar's eyes grew wide, "Nothing like that." _Or was it?_

_Now you're just lying to yourself._ "You wanted to get even with them," Sig said knowingly, "Admit it, Edgar. It's the most natural feeling in the world to have when someone wrongs you. They beat you, they took your innocence from you…what was left of it after mom died, that is…and they hurt and threatened your family. Even a saint would want to get even."

The heavy silence in the room was enough to tell Sig he hit the mark, at least for some of Edgar's motivations.

"Elliot had no right to have your ring," Edgar said passionately, showing his backbone and getting in touch with some of the bravado and testosterone he found outside of the Shack on that sunny, warm afternoon.

_I knew the ring was gonna come up eventually…just deal with it now. You can't keep putting it off._ "Is that really what this is about?"

"Yes," Edgar said with force, "You earned that ring and he stole it from you…"

Sig interrupted again, "I gave it to him. He didn't steal it."

"He conned you to give it to him," Edgar lowered his voice.

"No one conned me, kid," Sig said, his eyes closed and seeking the patience he so urgently needed, "I could have said no and left you there. I could have taken my chances with the cops or found another way to get the money but it was my choice to give him that ring because I refused to leave that hellhole without you. It was my decision and you should have just accepted it."

"I couldn't," Edgar sounded close to mournful, "I just couldn't."

Sig opened his eyes, his heart feeling heavy, "Do you understand how disrespectful that is to me?"

_Oh shit, I never thought of it like that. I knew my brother would be mad but I never realized how hurt he'd be. He seems so beaten and defeated and I can't stand it. Ugh, that stupid knot in my stomach freaking twists when he looks like that_. Edgar managed to stifle out in a small voice, "I didn't mean to show you disrespect, sir." _I wanted to show you how much you mean to me._

"Then what, Edgar?" Sig asked quietly, "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking…I…I was…" Edgar was dumbfounded, all of his solid reasoning from yesterday eradicated by his brother's words. Finally, he blurted out, "I just wanted you to have your ring back."

"And now I do," Sig said ominously, "So is everything better today? Is everything how you wanted it to be?"

"No…" Edgar gasped softly, "…because you won't wear it…because you're really mad at me. And I know I lost your trust." He reached over and placed a tender hand on his brother's breastbone. He started with the words every naughty child has uttered at least once in their lifetime, "I'll earn it back, I swear to God, I will. I'll be so good for the rest of the summer. I'll do everything you tell me to do without whining or any attitude."

Sig wasn't ready to hear the desperate promises, "OK, NOW you're sounding like you're trying to get out of something!"

"I'M NOT!" Edgar said defensively, "I'll take whatever punishment you give me for all this without whining, either, cause I know I deserve it. _I need it, I just can't say it._ And I promise I won't be any trouble for you anymore."

"The only trouble you give me is putting your life in danger," Sig lost his patience, raising his voice in volume but lowering his deep tone, "Can you stop doing that!?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar said, meaning it with all his heart, "I promise."

"Your promises don't mean a lot to me right now," Sig said sadly, sliding off the bed and withdrawing from his youngest brother's pleading touch. He stood up and turned back to face the bed.

The words cut Edgar deeply but he understood, reminding himself that he had mentally prepared for this outcome. _I have to earn back the trust…and I will. I meant what I said._

Sig sighed, forcing himself to ignore the crestfallen expression on Edgar's face. _There are long-term consequences, kid. Losing my trust is one of them, as painful as that might be._ "Come on, get dressed and come downstairs. I'll make breakfast."

"I'm not really hungry," Edgar responded, curling up on his side, his stomach betraying him with a long, loud gurgle.

Sig raised an eyebrow, "Really? Because you're stomach says otherwise." _I know you're nervous and I'm actually OK with that. I'm just fine with letting you sweat it out a little bit…just a little bit. But I'm not cruel and there's no reason to be afraid. We're gonna get to the bottom of this today. And you'll have a full stomach when we do._ "Edgar, I'm telling you to get dressed and come downstairs. I'm not asking."

"Yes, sir," Edgar noted the unmistakable authority in his brother's voice. He slid off the bed, leaving the blankets in a tussled bunch. His boxers were still the only article of clothing he was wearing and he had to wonder what the point would be of putting pants on at all today.

Sig mindlessly watched his brother climb from the bed, noticing for the first time in a few days the long, horizontal bruises healing on his bare lower back. As Edgar shuffled over to his dresser, Sig stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

Edgar paused, looking questioningly at Sig, and then down at the rough hand on his arm. Next, he found himself in a strangely timed embrace of familiar arms and a soft Seattle Seahawks t-shirt against his cheek.

"Little brother," Sig's voice trembled, "I'm still pretty pissed off but I'd never hurt you. Are you afraid of me for real?"

Edgar shook his head against his brother's chest.

_Damage control…this should have happened days ago._ Speaking softly in his deep male voice, Sig rested the tip of his chin on his brother's head, "Let me say this, OK, because I should have said it three days ago. I'm very sorry for yelling at you on Monday. I lost my temper in the worse way and I'm really sorry I frightened you. Frankly, I frightened myself. I guess I'm still holding in a lot when it comes to mom." The oldest brother trembled slightly at the thoughts of mom, the day she presented him with his ring and his graduation day without her.

Dipping the bridge of his nose against Sig's chest, Edgar buried his face in his brother's shirt and returned the brief embrace with his long, slender arms around Sig's waist. "I still miss her." His brother's unique scent of Polo, cigarettes and 'man' clung to the fabric of his shirt.

"Me too," Sig whispered back, spreading his hand over Edgar's shoulder blades and keeping him close for a moment, "But that doesn't give me the excuse to yell at you the way I did. And, afterwards, I was so humiliated about the things I said, I didn't know what to say to you or how to make amends. So, I hid in my work and avoided dealing with all of it."

"Dad does the same thing," Edgar ignorantly muttered into the cotton t-shirt.

Sig's initial reaction was to adamantly protest his brother's comparison, denial setting in as a way to effectively cope with the abstract mirror unintentionally shoved in his face. But mirrors don't lie, regardless of the lighting or angle of the glass and Sig had to own up to his actions. _I'm not dad…but some learned behaviors are harder to throw away than others_.

_Lead by example._ "Can you forgive me?"

"That's easy," Edgar mentally chuckled at the question. _I'm the one who's in deep hot water today and here's my big brother asking for my forgiveness_. "It wasn't all you, Sig. I was avoiding dealing with everything, too."

"Please don't tell me it was because you were afraid of me," Sig lifted his chin off Edgar's head and took a step back so he could look his brother in the eye, "I mean, genuinely afraid of me. Because I'd never hurt you, no matter how angry I got, and it would kill me if you thought otherwise."

"It's not you I was afraid of," Edgar answered back, studying the softening blue eyes staring back at him, "It was the fear that you and me won't be the same anymore after you found out what I was planning."

"It's you and I," Sig deflected the emotions he was experiencing by becoming the 'teacher' and correcting his brother's grammar. _You also really need to work on your spelling because its God awful…that and I don't want to think about the fact that you were avoiding me all week because you didn't want to openly deceive me. Should I be happy or upset about that?_

"You and I," Edgar repeated awkwardly, flashbacks of 7th Grade Language Arts class and Mr. Hall, the toughest teacher in Seattle Middle School, invading his thoughts.

"Listen," Sig cupped his brother's face, "You and I have some rough things to get through today as well as some ground to make up in the trust department, from both of us, it seems, but we're going to be just fine. We're still brothers, Edgar. Same blood, remember?"

_You were still my brother after mom died but I never saw you because you were never around. You buried your mind in school and work and left me behind. And that's what I'm afraid of now; that you'll leave for Alaska and never look back._ "Can I have breakfast in front of the TV?" the youngest brother asked hopefully. _I don't think I can handle another tense, quiet meal with you sitting across from me mulling over my 'crimes' and hefty consequences_.

"Sure," Sig was secretly grateful for the break in their conversation. _This will give me time to reflect on what Edgar just told me about yesterday and how it impacts my approach to his punishment…if at all_, "Do you need help getting dressed?"

"Should I bother?" Edgar stepped back, gesturing to his boxers by snapping the elastic band and flinging his bangs out of his eyes.

"You're assuming a lot, kid." Laughing, Sig ruffled his brother's silky hair, "What if Old Mr. Steward drops by for a cup of sugar or pint of milk? Do you want to give the old man a heart attack?"

"He raised five boys," Edgar stated, turning toward his dresser and opening the second drawer from the bottom. He pulled out a pair of old jeans and a ribbed A-framed t-shirt. As he dressed himself, he theorized, "I'm guessing there isn't much Mr. Steward hasn't seen."

Sig made Edgar's bed for him while his brother got changed, "I think things were different back then. I don't think guys hung out in their underwear and ate cereal on the sofa, if you know what I mean? I think people were more formal and private back then."

"You mean they didn't do shit like this?" Norman asked from the doorway, wearing only his black silk, heart covered boxers and posing like the figure on the Heisman trophy, minus the football and helmet. _Someone's gotta break the tension this morning._

Both Sig and Edgar froze and glanced at their middle brother, a mixture of humor and horror on their faces.

_I will never look at that trophy again without thinking of heart-covered silk boxers and my younger brother's hairy legs_. _ I'm scarred for life._ Sig ripped a pillow off the bed and chucked it at Norman's head, "No, and they don't walk around the house in their silky boxers just to show off their muscles to everybody, either."

The middle brother caught the pillow with ease, redirecting the projectile at Edgar's boxer-covered backside as he bent over and pulled up his jeans. Edgar looked back in surprise. The pillow landed on the floor and was left there for Sig to pick up, "You don't know that," Norman flexed his arms, "You're just making assumptions." _Jealous, big brother? If you got it… _He moved out of his Heisman trophy pose into the classic Mr. Universe poses, all of which were pointedly ignored by his brothers.

"Maybe so but I don't recall dad or our uncles running around the house in their boxers or briefs, even when mom or our aunts weren't home," Sig pointed out.

"Who knows," Norman smiled slyly, "But the three of us got here somehow?"

"Huh?" Edgar asked, his head popping out of his shirt as he pulled it over his head.

Norman glanced at Edgar and then apologetically to Sig. Rapidly changing the subject, the middle brother grumbled on his way to the bathroom, "Man, you two are chatterboxes in the morning. Did you forget that SOME of us have to go to work today?"

"Self-centered brat," Sig muttered under his breath before smoothing over the bed and leaving the room.

"I heard that," Norman yelled down the hallway.

Edgar slipped on his Rock-A –Way flip flops and followed Norman to the bathroom.

* * *

Norman made light work of brushing Edgar's teeth for him as sounds of meat sizzling and toast popping up from the toaster came from the first floor.

Keeping the brush in Edgar's mouth and effectively removing his opportunity to respond, Norman leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Sig's probably gonna yell at some point today. Just let 'em yell. Don't take it to heart, OK?"

Edgar nodded and Norman removed the toothbrush, allowing his brother to spit in the sink. When Edgar hesitated to leave the bathroom, Norman gave him a questioning look. "What?" he asked, toothbrush in his hand.

"I'm a little…" Edgar was embarrassed to admit to his big, tough older brother that he was afraid of this punishment. His face turned several shades of red and, when he could no longer look Norman in the eye, he dropped his head.

_I know that look. I saw it once when you were eight years old and hiding in my closet._ Norman placed the toothbrush in the plastic holder by the sink. He looked back at Edgar and asked, "Are you scared?"

Edgar just shrugged. Then, he managed to mutter out, "I've never done something this bad before. He's gonna give me a lickin' for sure and I don't even want to know what else."

Norman sighed and closed the bathroom door all the way. He took Edgar by his bandaged hand and walked him a few steps over to the toilet. Closing the lid, Norman sat his brother down and knelt on the floor in front of him. He placed both of his hands on Edgar's bent knees and looked him straight in the eyes. "I know with all my heart that Sig would never give you more than you could handle. He loves you, kid, and he just doesn't know how to get through your thick Norwegian skull that what you did wasn't worth the risks you took."

"I had good reasons, Norman," Edgar said softly, his eyes starting to burn with the tears he was holding back.

Norman shook his head slowly from side to side, maintaining eye contact with his brother, "Not good enough."

Edgar dropped his gaze and started picking at the bandages on his hands. _I thought they were._

_This is a God damn awful situation._ Norman felt so bad for both his brothers, he felt like crying, which didn't happen very often. "Edgar, if you're really that scared, my offer still stands," Norman puffed up his massive chest, "I'll take this punishment for you, if you want."

Edgar's head shot up. "No way! I'd never let you do something like that for me." The offer, although made in sincerity, ended up offending the young teenager's pride. "I'm tough. I can take this. I just got a little scared for a minute."

Norman was about to argue his reasons for making the offer but stopped himself. He decided to use the moment to right a wrong he made to a potential eight-year-old runaway with his toys packed in his Batman schoolbag. "A few years ago," he began, "I made a big mistake with you. I told you to take your punishment quietly and not cry. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah," Edgar nodded, "And to count backwards from ten. That always helped so what was the mistake?"

"The 'not crying' part," Norman explained, "It was a stupid thing to say and a mistake the three of us made for years. So I'm not ashamed to admit that when Sig paddled me, I cried like a baby and, I swear to Christ, it felt so good to let all that shit inside me go."

"YOU CRIED?" Edgar was astounded.

"You bet I did," Norman wasn't the least bit embarrassed, "And when I didn't think I could take anymore, it was over. He didn't lick me until I was broken, just until I was ready to move on…forgive myself, you know?"

"I can't believe YOU cried," Edgar said, his eyes wide with disbelief and obviously missing the point.

"OK, OK. Man, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to rub it in," Norman grumbled.

Edgar recovered, "Sorry, I know how hard that is; to let yourself cry during it."

"It was really hard," Norman smiled at the memory and his own stubbornness "And I'm telling you this because I don't want you fighting to get through it this time. Just let everything go and stop trying to be so tough, OK?"

Edgar hesitated, "For me, I'm afraid if I break down, Sig's gonna think I'm just a baby when I really want him to know how tough I am. He already knows you're tough but I gotta fight for his respect because I'm the youngest."

Norman narrowed his blue eyes, "Listen to me very carefully. Our oldest brother already thinks you are one very tough kid…so do I. No amount of tears in the world is gonna change that. And no wuss would have had the guts to go back and face his attackers like you did, as stupid as that was. But," the middle brother reached up and cupped his brother's face, "Sig doesn't need to see how tough you can be…only how sorry you are. If you forget everything else I just said, please remember that."

"That's the problem," Edgar lowered his voice, "I don't really know if I'm sorry."

Losing his balance, Norman sat back on his heels. _After everything, how can you not be sorry? _ "Excuse me?"

Rushing to clarify, Edgar explained in more detail, "I mean I'm sorry for lying and disobeying and disrespecting and gambling and breaking my promise."

"Ah, YEAH!" Norman spat sarcastically.

"But I got the ring back," Edgar finished with a slight flair of his bandaged hand.

_I'm out._ "OH boy," Norman stood up, stretching his legs and working the kink out of his knee, "I am so glad I'm not in Sig's shoes today." _Today will be one of those rare occasions where I will actually pray, like literally pray on my knees in the break room of Pete's Hardware Store, for my oldest brother_. "Alright, get out! I need a shower."

Norman ushered Edgar out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The youngest Hansen had no place to go but downstairs…to breakfast.

* * *

Edgar sat on the sofa, watching Tom and Jerry, and trying to distract himself with mindless slapstick. Each time Tom pounded Jerry with the conveniently available Acme anvil, he mentally winced and prayed Sig wouldn't get any ideas. The young teenager had elected to have plain toast, cereal and orange juice for breakfast, avoiding the heavy meal of bacon and eggs set aside for his older brothers.

Sig was in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper. As he absentmindedly flipped through the morning paper, his heart stopped when he got to page three of the local section. Having to glance away for a minute, he looked back and saw two grainy, black and white pictures of the double homicide victims identified at the Shack last night. The article read:

**DOUBLE HOMICIDE AT THE NOTORIOUS SHACK**

**Last night, two men, both identified as Elliot Neese, 22, and Adam O'Connor, 19, were killed in a bloody shootout that police are calling a case of possible involuntary manslaughter and/or self-defense. Not much is known at this time as to how the events unfolded but both men had criminal records with multiple felony charges. **

**O'Connor, a recent '84 graduate of Seattle High Schools Alternative Education Program, worked part-time as a delivery man for Nestle. School counselors will be on hand tomorrow, Saturday, at the high school for anyone in need of grief services. O'Connor's parents are deceased. He is thought to be survived by a younger brother whom the police are now searching for. **

**Neese was a known criminal in the area who had a long track record with law enforcement. He leaves behind no known family. Any family members wishing to claim his remains should contact the Seattle Police Department.**

**It is rumored that the local bar with a seedy reputation for trouble, which was the location of last night's murders, is being permanently shuttered and may be demolished in the coming weeks. **

As Sig re-read the article for the third time, Norman came bounding down the stairs, his work shirt thrown over his shoulders.

Stopping behind the sofa, the middle brother leaned over and gave Edgar a brief hug around his neck. Edgar had to hold onto his cereal bowl with his fingertips so the milk wouldn't slosh over the sides as Norman came close to accidentally knocking it out of his lap. The pungent scent of Stetson aftershave and Irish Spring soap wafted in the air.

"I'll see you later, kid," Norman kissed the top of Edgar's head and then whispered in his ear, "If you're still alive."

Edgar looked up, shocked at the mild teasing, and was greeted with Norman's goofy, wide-faced grin. He was clean shaven, his flawless skin a sign of proper hygiene, good genes and staying away from sugary foods. The young kid couldn't help but smile back, his brother's joshing a pleasant reminder not to be so nervous. _Sig's not gonna kill me. . . . right?_

Norman sauntered into the kitchen, buttoning up his work shirt and grabbing a slab of bacon off the plate left on the table. Noticing his oldest brother intense face as he read the newspaper, Norman looked over Sig's shoulder and saw what his brother was reading. "Jesus, you gotta be kidding me? Please tell me Edgar's not…"

Sig closed the paper quickly, folding it up and pushing it away, "…Edgar's name isn't mentioned, thank God."

"The Seattle Times must be well informed to hear about all that so fast," Norman said as he crunched on his bacon strip.

"Or well tipped off," Sig grumbled. Seeing the pictures of the dead men when they were alive tripped off a barrage of varied emotions for the oldest brother, none of which he could clearly identify. _I cannot believe that anyone I graduated with is going to mourn Adam's death so those school counselors are going to be mighty bored tomorrow. He wasn't very popular, mostly because he never came to school. I think he only graduated because he 'aged' out. I can't even remember if he was at the graduation ceremony. I guess he's the first one from my class to die. Is it weird to think that - To think someone my age is dead?_

Norman grabbed a plate and sat down to enjoy a hearty breakfast, watching Sig sip his coffee from across the table. The two older brothers didn't speak to each other; everything needing to be said was done so last night in the basement. The only sounds in the house were violent noises coming from the cartoon cat and mouse on the TV.

As the grandfather clock began to chime, Norman looked up and hustled his plate to the sink. He snatched his truck keys off the hook and headed to the door. He was a little surprised when Sig stood up as well and followed him outside.

The two of them stood at the top of the porch steps and glanced at the silver Ford F150 in the driveway, the neon green and white motor bike sitting proudly in the truck bed.

"Would you drop the motor bike off at the storage unit after work?" Sig asked Norman in a miserable voice, having no desire to fake a stern countenance. In all honesty, he was truly heartbroken to take the bike away from Edgar.

Hearing the misery in Sig's voice caused Norman to feel even more sympathy toward his older brother. For a brief second, he was going to protest the punishment on Edgar's behalf. It was what he would have done with dad; reminded him of how much Edgar loved this bike. But he didn't need to remind Sig, he already knew. "OK," Norman simply said.

"Remember the lock combination on the unit?" Sig stared off into the gloomy sky, his cobalt blue eyes squinting at the haze on the horizon.

"Yup." _It's a fair punishment, Sig. Don't beat yourself up about it_. "Storm's coming," Norman looked off into the distance, his inherited fisherman's instincts still sharp when it came to sensing bad weather. "I'll drop the bike off this morning before work. I got a couple of minutes."

"Alright then," Sig nodded, turning to leave and feeling like 'the bad guy.'

"Pizza for dinner?" Norman asked hopefully with an ulterior motive to force Sig to think beyond the morning hours.

"No," Sig said before going in the house, "I'll make something. We're eating out too much."

"I'll buy," Norman offered.

Sig turned back and glared at his brother. "I'm not worried about the money."

Norman realized this was the second offer he made today that was taken offensively. _I don't care what they say, men are more sensitive than women_. "OK, OK," he said defensively, holding his hands up and letting the keys jingle in the air.

Suddenly, Sig offered his brother a spectacular, movie-star smile, laced with a bit of 'evil, older brother.' "It's just that you've put on a few pounds since your surgery." He walked over and tapped his younger brother in the stomach to emphasize his point.

"You're an asshole," Norman quipped back, "I have not…have I?" He put his hands over his stomach, feeling around for the extra pounds.

"Just joking," Sig laughed, "God, you're worse than a woman."

"Screw you," Norman said, breaking into a short smile before walking down the porch steps.

Sig watched Norman pull away, taking with him the only excuse to put off punishing Edgar. He was no longer raging with anger, only mildly frustrated and he felt he could keep his emotions under control. _The kid's probably a nervous wreck by now and we just need to deal with things one step at a time._

_Patience…Compassion…Affection…Honesty…Example; Yup, I need them all. Punish him so he understands his actions will not be tolerated and so he can get the emotional release he needs. Stay till the end and beyond. Reassure. Don't give up. And try NOT to think about that damn ring._

Edgar never wanted to go to the hardware store so badly in his life. He heard the truck pull away and the back screen door slam. Finishing up his cereal and toast, Edgar didn't even have time to put away his dishes.

Sig came into the living room, "Done?"

"Yes."

"I'll get the dishes," Sig said as he cleared away the bowl, spoon and glass of pulpy orange juice resin.

Edgar focused on the TV as he listened to the water running in the kitchen sink and the hot frying pan sizzling against the cool metal. His eyes wandered up to the fireplace mantel littered with pictures of him and his two brothers in crystal and wooden frames of various sizes.

All of mom's favorites were there: baby pictures, yearly school pictures, baseball pictures and family Christmas card pictures were among the many, documenting in living color the different ages and sizes he and his brothers had once been along the way to adolescence and adulthood.

There were a few pictures of mom and dad. His parent's wedding picture was the largest, mom dressed like a hippie from the 60's, her long blond hair adorned with fresh flowers and flowing freely against her white dress. Dad was dressed stiffly in a brown suit and forcing a smile with his closed mouth.

"I'd like to talk now," Sig said softly, appearing in the living room and startling Edgar out of his daze.

Looking up at his tall, broad, flaxen-haired brother, Edgar felt like he was staring at a modern day Viking. _It's where our ancestors came from so I guess that makes sense. A modern, Seattle Seahawks-loving Viking that's pretty darn mad. And I'm the baby dragon he's about to slay. All he needs is a sword._

Edgar nodded silently and turned off the TV with the remote control resting on the arm of the sofa.

With the droning noise of the TV extinguished, the house suddenly got quiet.

Edgar leaned into the arm of the sofa, tucking his feet up to his backside and glanced down at his hands.

Taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table, Sig spread his legs wide and rested his elbows on his knees. He was very near to his brother, clearly within arm's reach, because he wanted to give the teenager as much comfort as he could by his close physical proximity as well as maintaining full eye contact.

"Mom wouldn't like you sitting on the coffee table," Edgar said absentmindedly.

"No," Sig smiled, "She sure wouldn't" _Mom wouldn't like you sitting on the coffee table_…As Sig repeated the words in his mind, his smile faded slowly. _But Mom's not here. She's not here so who cares about sitting on the coffee table. So why are you worried about it, little brother?_

Like someone splashed icy cold water on his face, Sig got it. He got what Norman got last night. The oldest brother got what his youngest brother was trying to do in getting that ring back. It wasn't about the ring or him or things being right between them. It was about finding a way to bring their mother back. _If she had been here, that ring wouldn't mean nearly as much as it does. It wouldn't possess an almost magical quality._

"Maybe you should sit somewhere else," Edgar admonished his big brother.

Sig shook off his revelations. "I'm fine right here." _You don't even realize it, do you, Edgar? She's gone and there's no way to bring her back. None. But there is no way I'm confronting you with this information right now. You are too fragile and broken at the moment, the last few weeks have been more than a man can handle, let alone a kid. Yet, your misguided intentions do factor into my decisions on an appropriate punishment._

"I forgot to tell you something earlier," Edgar pursed his lips together. _ Like I need to add to my list of charges?_

Groaning, Sig put a hand up and ran it through his blond hair._ What else could you possibly have done and why do you look so damn guilty?_ "I'm guessing I don't want to hear this, either," Sig said evenly.

"Ah, no," Edgar looked through lowered eyelashes and responded in a quiet voice, "But I told myself I was gonna be honest about yesterday…so, I have to tell you…I smoked a cigarette last night." Ducking, the kid waited for a throw pillow to be tossed in his direction. _If only all the things coming my way were so soft…_

~tbc


	50. The Baby Dragon

**A/N: Chapter 50 - I cannot believe it! I wouldn't have gotten here without the wonderful support of some very special people and the most amazing readers in the world. My heartfelt thanks to all!**

**WARNINGS: The Usual**

**DISCLAIMERS: I own nothing...except the ring hidden in Sig's dresser drawer.**

* * *

Sig closed his eyes, remembering to keep calm, "Because you were nervous?" _Just like I want a cigarette right now because I'm nervous._

Edgar answered, "Yes." _Very! Like I am right now...maybe more so now!_

"Geez, kid," Sig said with a shake of his head, "When you rack 'em up, you really know how to rack 'em up."

"Sorry," Edgar offered weakly, blanching at Sig's disgusted look.

Sig opened his eyes and looked at the contrite teenager before him, curled up on the sofa and awaiting his sentencing, "Alright, anything else you need to get off your chest before I have my say?" _Please say no, please say no, please say…_

"No, sir," Edgar's eyes didn't waver from his brother's stubbly cheeks or tired eyes. _Smoking, lying, manipulating, deceiving, disobeying, gambling with a bunch of gangsters in an illegal poker game…under age, no less…carrying my fishing knife for purposes other than fishing, breaking my promise and putting myself in danger; yes, I do believe I've covered them all this morning. BUT, I had a really, really good reason!_

_As much as I don't want to hear it, I like it when I get the truth from him_. Sig took a very deep sigh, wondering where to start. Finding no reasonable place to begin, he went with what was pressing on his heart the most. "I realize I was yelling at the time so maybe you shut down and didn't hear me so I'll say it again. It bears repeating, anyway."

Edgar knew exactly what his brother was about to say and he dropped his gaze, studying the leather of the sofa.

"Look at me the whole time I'm speaking to you," was the stern command from the blond man sitting on the coffee table. _This may be the most difficult part of our conversation, for both of us. It's not about the what this time, it's about the why. And I hate to hurt my brother but he needs to hear this_.

It took a second or two for Edgar to find his courage and look up.

When he had the attention of those emerald green eyes, Sig spoke softly, slowly and from his heart, "You mean a million times more to me than that ring and it makes me freaking sick to my stomach that you would do something so reckless and dangerous to try and get it back."

"But it was worth…"

"NO," Sig interrupted, "You're gonna listen to me. You're a great kid, Edgar. Maybe you don't hear that enough but it's the God damn truth. And I know in your heart you want to obey me because you do respect me. You've been calling me 'sir' since dad left and I know you mean it."

"I do," Edgar's eyes grew wide with pleading.

"But," Sig stared back at him, "You're willing to obey me only as long as it's convenient for you."

_WHAT? _ Edgar began protesting, "No…"

"Don't argue with me," Sig said quickly, cutting his brother off, "It's true. The minute YOU feel it is worth it to disobey me, for whatever reason, that is exactly what you do." He scanned his brother's young face, "That's exactly what happened the night I took Norman to the hospital and you insisted on coming with us, despite me ordering you to stay home. And the same thing happened when Matt stole Norman's pill. This time is no different. You knew full well what you were doing was wrong but you told yourself you had a higher purpose, a reason that overrode my order never to go back to the Shack. You even talked yourself into believing what you were doing was worth breaking your promise for."

Sig took a breath, "Well, little brother, let me explain it to you in no uncertain terms…what you did was NOT worth it, I don't care what you told yourself."

"You're worth it to me," Edgar raised his voice slightly, the words clenching in his throat and coming out with a squeak.

_I don't wanna hear this_! "NO…I'm not! I'm not worth risking your life over."

"Sig," Edgar's voice started to break, "You and Norman mean more to me than anything else in the world. If you're not worth it, nothing is."

"AND WE FEEL THE EXACT SAME WAY ABOUT YOU," Sig lost his temper, standing up and starting to pace the length of the coffee table. "But I wasn't in danger. No one was threatening me and, even if they had been, I still wouldn't want you placing yourself in harm's way to save me. Yet, you went back there to get a piece of gold that I gave away…freely…to save your life. And I asked you Monday night to respect my sacrifice and move on. Instead, you negated it by breaking your promise to me, risking your life and committing a crime. How is that showing me how much I mean to you?"

Edgar didn't have an answer for the question, at a loss for words to express how he felt. As always, when words fail, tears take over and the young teenager felt the hot, salty water gathering behind his eyes.

Seeing the tears forming, Sig's anger abated and he sat back down on the coffee table. "I just want…no, I need you…to be safe and careful with your life because I need you as much as you need me." He reached over and cupped his youngest brother's face, wiping away a tear with his thumb and ghosting the fading bruise with his index finger.

Through his hand, he could feel Edgar trembling with the effort to hold onto his tough exterior, "We need you…Norman, dad and I…because…" the oldest brother's throat became thick with emotion, making it difficult to get the words past his lips, "…because…mom lives on in you…and I can't deal with losing what I have left of her. It's not the ring that's irreplaceable…it's YOU. If you had gotten killed by that bullet, I…Edgar, I can't even think about it…If you died last night, I would have had my ring back but it would have been worthless without you.

"That's where you're wrong about your actions being worth the risks and that's why I'm not wearing my ring today…or for a while…maybe forever." Feeling his own tears rising out of fear and heartbreak, Sig blinked them back into the place they came from. _This is hard to say and even harder for him to hear but he has to understand._ "You got the ring back but it's not the same ring anymore. It has a whole new meaning, and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but it's no longer the ring mom and dad gave to me."

Edgar listened intently to every word his brother spoke, each syllable a chip in his armor. _I thought I won that game…but, in the end…I went bust. I risked everything, went all in and came away with nothing_. Realizing he lost his brothers' trust, disappointed and upset his family and tainted the original gesture behind Sig's ring, Edgar began having difficulty breathing, "I just…" he started brokenly, overwhelmed with regret and shame, "…I…just…wanted to show you…how much I…love you." _But, instead, I ruined everything!_

Pulling back his hand, Sig finished all he really needed to say, "You don't ever have to prove to me how much you love me. I already know." _ And maybe I do deserve it._

His lip quivering, Edgar broke down and began sobbing, burying his face in his gauze-wrapped hands. _Oh, God, I was sooooo stupid. The ring was gone the minute it left my brother's finger and there was no way I could ever really get it back like it was. I did this all for nothing! _

Sig gathered him up in an instant, ushering the weeping child into his ample lap. He settled Edgar's backside onto his thigh and let his brother rest his head against his shoulder before wrapping his arms around the lanky teenager. The coffee table creaked in protest under the added weight of both brothers.

Edgar wept into his brother's shirt, at times apologizing with such genuine and sincere "M'Sorrys" that Sig had no doubt they were coming from his heart. Other times, Edgar just blubbered nonsense about not thinking with his head and never meaning to hurt his brothers with his rash and irresponsible actions. He unconsciously altered between English and Norwegian languages and Sig responded back in both, telling him everything was going to be alright and, although not forgotten, all would be forgiven.

Edgar gutted out through his tears, "No one(sob)…deserves(sob)…that much…(sob)forgiveness."

_Oh, the irony? Why do we value each other more than ourselves?_ "Yes, you do." Sig spoke softly into Edgar's shaggy hair, causing his brother to cry harder.

Finally, when the sobbing had died down to lingering tears, Sig reached over and place a hand under his youngest brother's chin, "Do you understand why you can't put your life in danger anymore, regardless of the reasons?"

Edgar nodded through his tears, Sig's hand moving up and down with him.

"Because my heart can't take anymore, bro," Sig whispered, "Remember what you wrote in that essay; the part about your heart being so broken since mom died that the thought of losing one of your brothers would smash it into a million pieces, or something to that effect?"

Nodding again, Edgar returned to crying, surprising himself that there were any tears left in his body. Although the tears were well-stocked for the event, the heaving and gasping for air was causing Edgar to experience stomach cramping and the soft, pitiful sounds coming from his lips were heartbreakingly painful.

Sig pulled Edgar close, letting him bury his head back onto his broad chest and reassuring him to breathe slowly. He left his thought about the essay unfinished; it seemed like Edgar comprehended the unspoken message.

It broke Sig's heart to hear his youngest brother cry so wretchedly but he didn't regret his words. He understood that it must have been devastating to have one's heartfelt plans and reasons ripped to shreds but he'd be damned if he would ever allow his brother to become so misguided in the future. Any punishment after this is just an afterthought, punctuation for the brutal truth.

Finally, after the tears subsided, Edgar whimpered sadly, "Don't leave me."

_Mom's sudden death really shook you to the core, didn't it, baby bro?_ "I'm not," Sig answered back, running his hand up and down Edgar's arm. "I live here, remember?"

Edgar gurgled out a short laugh that sounded like a snort. "You're an adult now. You could go anywhere you wanted."

"Yup," Sig said with a slight southern accent, "That's why I'm still here. This is where I want to be."

_And I want things to be OK and I'm guessing there's some other stuff Sig needs to say to me. I'm trying to be tough. It's not that I don't appreciate Norman's advice but, as the baby of the family, I'm always gonna have more to prove._ "I'm OK," Edgar muttered softly, pulling away from his brother's chest and using the gauze on the back of his hands to dry off the lingering drops on his face. Noticing his brother's wet-spotted Seahawks shirt, Edgar grazed a hand over the stain, "Sorry."

"It'll dry…and I'm waterproof."

Gathering up his courage, Edgar disengaged his arm from around Sig's neck and tried to stand up.

Sig released the tight grasp he had and helped Edgar climb back over to the sofa. He held his youngest brother's right hand gently, not letting go even when Edgar resumed his position on the sofa.

Holding onto the battered hand, Sig reached over with his left hand and brushed the bangs out of Edgar's eyes. He leaned in, his knees touching the sofa, and said, "Now that we got through the 'why,' we have to get past the 'what.' What you did was…"

"Pretty bad?" Edgar finished Sig's thought.

"I can't sugarcoat it, Edgar," Sig looked like he was about to be sick, "You officially have the house record for racking up the most serious offenses in the shortest amount of time. And that's saying something, considering Norman's propensity for irritating dad."

Seeing Edgar's eyes brighten with the backhanded compliment, Sig admonished him sternly, "AND that's not something to be proud of!"

Edgar dropped the half-hearted, crooked smile before it started. "I know I'm in a lot of trouble."

"Ugh," Sig groaned, burying his head in his hand.

With a sigh to calm his nerves, Edgar asked, "Are you going take your belt to me this time?"

"Funny you should ask that," Sig looked up, gazing into the apprehensive green eyes, "Because I made a promise to never do that. Yet, this is one of those instances where one might think it would be worth breaking a promise."

Edgar slunk down further into the seat cushion.

"But," Sig said firmly, making his point, "I pride myself on being a man of MY word and that's the example I want to set for you. So, no, I'm not taking my belt or the strap to you." His leg started bouncing, his determination building, "In fact, no one is ever taking a piece of leather to you ever again." He turned over Edgar's hand and ran his thumb over the hidden injuries, his action explaining the reason behind his edict.

"Dad's not gonna…"

"Dad included," Sig said with conviction, "Dad and I have a lot to discuss when he gets home, the days of the strap coming to an end being one of those things we need to talk about."

"Uhhh," Edgar looked doubtful, shifting his weight onto his elbow, "I'm not so sure dad's gonna be OK with you telling him what to do." _Understatement of the year!_

"Let me worry about dad," Sig said, looking off into the kitchen. Turning back to Edgar, he continued, "It's not for you to worry about. Along with how the bills get paid and how much money we have to live on." Sig gave his brother a hard stare that broke no indifference.

If Edgar planned to argue the point, the cold stare stopped him in his tracks.

"You may not like it but you're a kid and those are not the kinds of things kids should be worrying about," Sig explained, "We have enough money for food and bills and for you to have the things you need, like new clothes and strings for your guitar and other stuff. I don't want you worrying about money for the rest of your adolescent life, at least until you get a job and pay for your own car and insurance. Do you understand me?" He shook his brother's hand slightly to accentuate the facts.

"Yes, sir," Edgar said with a nod. _I'm_ _still gonna worry but I just won't let it show_.

"But," Sig added, softening his gaze, "I'm extremely proud of you that you didn't take the money. It must have been really hard to make the right decision with so much being offered."

_You're proud of me? How can that even be possible?_ "I realized it was…" Edgar didn't know the correct explanation.

"Blood money?"

"Yeah," he said, glancing at Sig, "Like it was dirty."

"The only way to make money is through hard work," Sig sighed at the thought he knew all too well, "Any other money, like fast cash, probably came from a bad place. Usually when things are too good to be true, they are."

Edgar smiled a little.

"Let's move on to the knife," Sig was on a roll, "I'm not a dummy. I know you were scared out of your mind to take something like that with you. But you must realize by now that your knife could have caused more problems than it would have ever solved."

"Don't I have the right to defend myself?" Edgar asked sincerely, genuine curiosity in his voice.

"In this country, yes, you have that right…AT the age of eighteen…when you know the full implications of what having a weapon like that in your back pocket actually means," Sig answered, pulling his hand off Edgar's, "Not at thirteen when you have no freaking idea what you're doing. Jesus, Edgar, would you really risk killing someone by accident or having the knife turned against you?"

"I…No," Edgar begrudgingly admitted.

"Carrying a weapon, playing illegal poker…which, by the way, was a lousy way of using what I taught you…hanging out with thugs and gangsters; God, kid, if I didn't know you, I'd think you were a hoodlum," Sig said, a small smile breaking on his face. _My tender-hearted brother, you're the furthest thing from a hood_.

His not-so-gentle teasing did not have the effect Sig desired. Instead of getting Edgar to see the irony of the situation, his youngest brother's eyes began filling again with tears.

"Stop, stop," Sig laughed and almost started crying himself, "YOU'RE NOT A HOODLUM, baby brother; Just a kid that got caught up in stuff way over his head and was only thinking with his heart. And it's a big, soft heart at that."

"I'm gonna feel guilty about this for the rest of my life," Edgar whispered helplessly, his voice shaky and dry from crying.

_I won't allow that!_ Sig sighed, "No, you're not. But you're going to learn from all this and make better decisions in the future. And if you don't know what the right thing is, you come and talk to Norman or I…better yet, talk to me first. Norman gets a little self-righteous when it comes to fair play and justice."

"You know," Edgar ratted out his older brother like only a little brother could, "I asked Norman the night he got in trouble for going to the Shack if he thought it was worth getting the licking."

"And," Sig asked hesitantly, "What did he say?" _Oh, God, Norman, please have said the right thing at the right moment._

"He said he knew he never wanted to disappoint you like that ever again."

_I love you, Norman. LOVE you. And I don't tell you enough how much. I only tease you about getting fat and give you a hard time about your crappy truck. It's what older brothers do…but I also forgot the code lately_. "I can only take so much trouble from my little brothers."

"Speaking of which…"

"MMM," Sig nodded, "I guess we've addressed the whys and the whats. Now, for the 'what comes after." _I hate this part._ "Edgar," his tone grew serious along with his face, "This is some serious stuff you pulled and…I have to punish you for all this."

"I know." _Knew right from the start…so why is this so hard?_

"Come here," Sig stood up, grasping his brother's arm and shuttling him off the sofa.

Edgar expected to be lead to his room, so when Sig headed in the direction of the kitchen, his heart sank. Dutifully, he followed his oldest brother into the kitchen and was surprised when Sig lead him over to the sink.

Standing on the linoleum floor on unsteady legs, Edgar waited for the 'what comes after'. He'd have to wait a few more unexpected minutes. Taking a clean cloth from one of the bottom drawers, Sig turned on the sink and wet it under the cold water. Next, he wiped the tears and damp tracks off his youngest brother's blotching skin, allowing Edgar to keep the damp towel on his eyes for a few moments.

Edgar had to wonder why Sig bothered. _I'm only going to cry later_. Still, the icy cold cloth felt wonderful against his hot skin so he didn't complain.

After a few minutes, Sig removed the towel and requested gently, "Sit down for a minute." He pulled back one of the kitchen chairs and waited for Edgar to take a seat. Then, he grabbed two glasses, filled both with ice and water and set one in front of his brother, keeping the other for himself. Finding a straw, he dropped it in Edgar's glass and took the seat next to him, pulling it out from under the table and sat facing his brother.

Accepting the glass of water with unspoken gratitude, Edgar drank heartily, the cold liquid heavenly on his dry throat. _Perhaps I need to replenish for the next round_. The thought caused him to smile.

Sig caught the smile, "What?"

"Nothing," Edgar said with a big gulp, "How is it that you always know what I need?"

"Instinct," Sig answered. _I know a lot more than I ever realized, like when you need reassurance and when something is bothering you…and when you need some heavy consequences to solidify our understanding. Is this a big brother skill or some paternal instinct I've tapped into?_ He waited until they were both done and set his glass down on the table. Then, he turned his brother's chair so they were facing each other. The chair legs squeaked across the kitchen floor.

A soft rain began to fall, hitting the window with the promise of more to follow as the day progressed.

A sigh as deep as the Grand Canyon escaped Sig's throat. "This isn't going to be easy."

_Please don't get nervous because, when you get nervous, I get nervous_. Edgar simply nodded.

"I need you to know that, as much as I didn't want to, I've put some thought into the consequences and my decisions were not made out of anger. They were made with a purpose in mind. Do you understand the difference?" Sig asked.

Edgar responded simply, "Yes."

"OK," Sig sat back straight in his chair. _Say it quick_. "You've lost your bike for the rest of the summer. I'm putting it in storage until the fall circuit starts in late August."

An inaudible noise came from Edgar's closed mouth but he remained quiet, taking his punishment without whining, as he promised. _**My bike…?**_

"I…" Sig told himself not to apologize, and then did anyway, "I'm sorry. I know how much you love that bike so I know how much of a sacrifice you made last night by 'selling' it to get my ring back. But, I can't allow you to treat something so expensive with such disregard. The bike cost a lot of money and Norman worked countless hours to get it in the shape it's in so it's not for sale under any circumstance. Maybe now that it's temporarily gone, you'll come to appreciate its true value."

"And, without the bike, your mobility is limited, which leads me to the next punishment. You're grounded…indefinitely," Sig closed his eyes, forcing the words out of his mouth, "Or until you can prove to me that you're trustworthy. You lost a lot of my trust, plotting all this and keeping it from me. So, your backside is grounded. That means you never get left at home by yourself. You go with either Norman or I at all times and you go nowhere without one of us." _This is the punishment that I'm altering based on this morning's information – it would have been the whole summer but I'm willing to give you one more shot…after you gain my trust back, that is!_

_OK, not so bad because I'd rather be with you guys than anywhere else. Gaining your trust is the first priority on my list_. Edgar nodded again, several times.

"Verbal."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm not coming home to some bullsh…bullcrap note anymore about where you're not," Sig scolded, admitting even to himself that he sounded a little like their father.

The fatherly tone caused Edgar to straighten up in his own chair, "Yes, sir."

"And," Sig's hand started to tremble, "I'm gonna spank you." Allowing the words to sink in for both of them, Sig waited. Edgar barely reacted except for a small sigh of resignation.

Wringing his hands in front of him, Sig spoke clearly, "It will be just like the first time I spanked you with a little of last time added in. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar whispered, his voice dying off as he spoke, "You're gonna spank me with your hand over my boxers, some…bare…"

"Not many," Sig whispered back quickly, "And I'm gonna spank you with the paddle," he finished, "None of the licks you'll remember in the long run."

Edgar knew exactly what that meant. Each lick would be as hard as the last, no 'freebies' or reminders given. "How many," he asked as he bravely pushed back his shoulders.

"My hand to your backside for the lying and disobeying. Seven licks of the paddle for breaking your promise and putting yourself in danger, six for all the other stuff, like the knife, gambling and smoking. Thirteen…one for each year of your life you almost threw away doing one of the nicest and kindest things anyone has ever done for me." Sig watched the shocked expression cross his brother's face.

"But I ruined everything," Edgar muttered out, sounding strangely defensive.

"Naw," Sig said, "It's just a setback. A big setback but nothing we can't overcome. You know, I'll never agree with what you did but I know you did it from your heart. I think that's why I'm really struggling with punishing you so hard. But, there have to be consequences, and as much as almost getting shot should be enough to teach you, I know you better than that."

"Like maybe I'm not as lucky as I think I am?" Edgar said with a small, wry grin, mimicking his older brother.

"Something along those lines," Sig responded with the identical grin. The grin faded slowly, "Edgar, even after this is over, you'll probably still have lots of bad memories of that place, those men and what they did to you. Punishing you isn't going to erase the scars or the nightmares. I still think it would be better if you talked to someone about everything."

_No, thank you_. "Sig," Edgar grew somber, "Can we get this over with?"

"Yeah," Sig said with regret already in his voice. _Despite there being no surprises, everything laid out in the open, the kid is still nervous. I wish I could ease his worries but there's only one way to accomplish that_. "I'll meet you in your room?" he asked like it was a statement.

"OK," Edgar nodded, forcing a half-hearted grin as he stood up.

Sig stood up with him and noticed that his brother hesitated for the briefest of seconds, taking a small step toward him as if to hug him. Then, Edgar stopped himself, turned around and trudged through the kitchen with his shoulders slumped like he carried a heavy burden. Watching his youngest brother take the stairs, Sig had to wonder what it was that gave his younger brothers pause to hug him first. _Dad didn't raise us to hug guys. I can't undo years of learning in just a few weeks. But, I won't give up trying._

Clearing up the glasses, Sig left them in the dish drain and followed in his brother's footsteps. On his way up the steps, he thought about how tired Edgar must be because Sig was already exhausted and he'd hardly cried a tear. _Maybe this can wait…No, now I'm just trying to talk myself out of it. Stupid thought but, perhaps after the spanking, Edgar will be so worn out, he'll finally sleep soundly and without the haunting images._

On autopilot, Sig proceeded into his parent's room and headed to the closet.

* * *

_I'm still not used to this location. I know lots of my friends got sent to their room for a licking but dad was strictly a 'kitchen table' kind of guy. What the heck am I supposed to do up here while I'm waiting? I guess I can get these jeans off. I told Sig there was no point in putting them on. I knew I'd be getting it good this time. _

Fumbling with the button fly jeans, Edgar peered around his room and looked longingly at his bed. Last night, the flat mattress had been a place of torture instead of rest and relaxation. He felt trapped in his own mind, the disturbing pictures of the Shack growing even more vivid as his teenage imagination added to the event.

_Will those thoughts ever go away? _

Trying to focus on something else, Edgar shimmied off his jeans and hung them over his desk chair. Wearing nothing but his cotton boxers and sleeveless white t-shirt, he paced a few steps around his quiet room. The old Band-Aid on his shoulder was starting to get annoying and he ripped it off, feeling the scabs from the cigarette burns pulling at his newly forming skin. He tossed the old, graying and sticky Band-Aid in the trash can by his desk.

Walking past his guitar, he plucked at a few stings with his fingertips and missed being able to make music. _I'm so tired_. Edgar sat down on the edge of his made bed, coming close to a smile over the thought of being grateful to sit down comfortably. _That's about to change._ Staring down at his downy soft hair-covered knees, he wished he could go back to rubbing at his face. _I miss that. Always made me feel better. My hands hurt again. Norman was right, that was pretty stupid of me trying to ride my bike. Maybe Sig'll let me take a pain pill for it. Might work on several different areas at once. Aww, guess that's cheating on my punishment_.

Lost in thought, Edgar didn't notice Sig standing in the doorway of his bedroom. Leaning against the door jam, Sig crossed his arms over his chest and had to do a double take. His little brother still looked just as tired and lonesome as he did the first time Sig showed up on his doorstep, paddle tucked in his back pocket.

The oldest brother had changed into a dry t-shirt and jeans. Somehow punishing his brother wearing pajamas seemed…disrespectful. It was a 'formal' occasion and he was the one in charge. _It's hard to feel in charge wearing sleep pants. And a dry shirt is more comfortable to snuggle against then a wet one._ Sig only hoped his brother would be willing to provide the affection after the punishment was over.

"Hey," Sig said softly.

"Hey," Edgar answered back without looking up, his head bowed and his face obscured.

_Ah, Déjà vu. At least he's not huddled in a corner on the floor_. "Lotta heavy consequences, huh?" Sig asked as he stepped into the room.

"It's not like I didn't earn them," Edgar sighed deeply, picking at the gauze around his hands and still avoiding the 'Viking's' gaze.

Sig thoughtfully closed the door behind him, knowing his brother preferred this to be a private moment between the two of them, even if no one was home. Crossing the room in a few strides, Sig sat down on the bed next to his brother. Immediately, he noticed the Band-Aid on Edgar's arm had been ripped off and two, circular scabs had formed on his upper arm. _They're gonna scar. There's nothing I can do to stop them_. "Sometimes even when we know something bad is going to happen, it's still hard to accept," he said, nudging Edgar's bare knee with his own and studying his kid brother's remorseful and nervous expression.

"Like getting a needle at the doctor's office?" Edgar came up with his own analogy, catching Sig's eye from the corner of his.

"Hmmm," Sig contemplated the comparison, "That's a good one. Yep, mom used to warn us it was coming on the drive over and I'd tell myself I was ready. Yet, the minute that needle came out, I'd want to run out the door."

Edgar smiled, "And she'd remind us it was for our own good. She'd say 'it's better than getting whatever.' But at the time, I would have rather had measles or mumps or rhubarb."

"I think you mean Rubella," Sig corrected him

"Anything but the shot," Edgar finished.

Tipping over to Edgar's side, Sig leaned in and softly spoke in Edgar's ear, "But the shot was over quickly. Just like this spanking will be."

"Still hurt after," Edgar shrugged, remembering the soreness in his arms after those inoculations.

"That goes away, too," Sig put his hand on Edgar's shoulder, listening to the rain pick up outside, "But the medicine lasts a lifetime." _Much like I'm hoping this 'medicine' has the same effect when it comes to putting yourself in danger_.

Edgar got Sig's analogy right off the bat. _Time to take my medicine. I just want to get this over with._

He turned and looked at his blond brother, seeing a good deal of sadness as well as determination on Sig's face.

Without being asked, Edgar stood up and Sig slid over into the warm space left behind. He put a gentle hand on Edgar's arm and led him to the spot between his knees. Looking straight at the same green eye's as his mother, Sig deeply regretted what he was about to do. Keeping one hand on either of Edgar's arms, he asked firmly, "Do you understand why you're being punished?" _Please say yes because I can't go over this anymore. If you didn't get it by now…_

"Yes," Edgar responded clearly, giving his brother solid eye contact, "I disobeyed you and lied big time. I put my life at risk and broke my promise. I carried a knife and gambled and other stuff I'm not proud of. I lost your trust and I disappointed you."

"Those, thankfully, are the correct answers," Sig said gladly. _The truth hurts to admit but ignoring the pain only leads to more trouble._ He sat back slightly and waited, giving Edgar time to come to terms with what Sig figured was the hardest part for the kid: giving up any illusion of control he might have left and submitting to his brother's will - Difficult concept, especially for a proud, stubborn young male.

Unpredictably, Edgar moved around to Sig's right side and laid himself across his brother's lap without preamble. Sig barely had time to press his knees together before taking the full weight of his brother's lower half.

The upturned bottom was presented so willingly and without a struggle that Sig had to ponder if Edgar was feeling exceptionally guilty or was just too exhausted to put on the 'I'm tough' front. Either way, the big brother was grateful.

Settling his chest and head onto the bed, Edgar folded his arms in front of him and buried his face in the nook of his elbow. Grabbing onto the bed or snuggling his hands under his chest were going to be impossible because of his injuries so he just rested either hand lightly around each of his forearms. _It helps to have something to grab onto so this is gonna suck._ His body rigid with tension for the impending swats, he stoically waited.

Sig took the opportunity of his brother's distraction to pull the paddle out from his back pocket and rest it on the bed next to him. Hiding the damn thing until it was needed had sort of become a tradition for him, a false hope that he was still somehow sparing his brother the anxiety of looking at it.

The next tradition for the oldest brother was to place a soft hand on Edgar's lower back but, noticing the faint bruise through the thin fabric of Edgar's shirt, Sig hesitated touching the area. He lifted the material of the ribbed shirt up with his left hand, lightly ghosting the bruise with his right fingertips.

The fading injury, an inch in width, went from one side of Edgar's lower back all the way across to the other in one long strip. "How did this happen?" Sig asked gently, prompting his brother to talk about the beating he endured. He felt his brother tense even more at the question.

"I…I don't…want to talk about it," Edgar responded, lifting his head and resting his chin on his arm, "It doesn't matter now anyway. I forgave him."

Sig was stunned. He placed his right hand on the back of Edgar's knee, "Who? Elliot?"

"No, Adam."

"You forgave him?" Sig asked incredulously.

Edgar rocked his chin on his arm, rubbing the skin and soothing himself. "He saved my life," the youngest brother elucidated, deciding that was enough of an explanation.

_Now there's someone who didn't deserve that much forgiveness. Yet, my tender-hearted brother gave it anyway. Just when I think I couldn't feel any prouder of this kid over my knees, he finds a way to outshine himself_. "I know…but I don't know if that overrides everything else he did," Sig said gently, "You still bear the scars." _Like those scabs on your arm_.

Edgar only shrugged.

"I still think you should talk about it."

Nothing.

Sig gave up, deciding to chip away at Edgar's silence another day. The oldest brother pushed up Edgar's shirt high enough that the mid and lower back areas were exposed. "Is this OK? I just don't want to accidentally touch your bruises and I'm afraid if I don't see them, I may forget."

Edgar laid his cheek down against his wrist, "Um, mm." The air conditioning vent blasted a shaft of cold air from the ceiling that rippled against his flesh, causing a slight outbreak of goose bumps to break out on his skin. Instinctively, Sig ran his left hand over Edgar's upper back, trying to warm him from the chill.

The spiny ribs sticking out of Edgar's sides were more prominent than before. Sig remarked, "You've lost a little weight."

"I've been eating," Edgar sensed he was about to get himself in more trouble, unexpectedly, this time. _Not as much as I should but I haven't really been that hungry. _

"Maybe it's time for a physical," Sig mentioned more to commit the thought to memory than to inform Edgar, "You'll need one for soccer in the fall, anyway." Keeping a soft hand on Edgar's back, Sig rubbed wide, even circles and felt his brother begin to relax. _Please…I need you to be healthy and happy…right now, healthy is about all we have because a lot of 'happy' left the building when mom died._

After a few moments, Sig said quietly, "I can't say this out loud." _But I need to say it._

"What?"

"I can't say it out loud because…It's not right and I don't want to confuse you."

"Um…OK?"

Using the flat of his palm, Sig 'erased' the chalkboard that was about to become of Edgar's upper back. Next, with his forefinger of his left hand, he traced the following words, "**Thank You.**"

_Huh?_ "For what?" Edgar asked softly.

Erased. New words. "**For what you did for me**." _For loving me._

A long silence followed by a muffled sob.

Erased. New words. "**Love you more every day**."

Maybe it was the overwhelming guilt or the pure exhaustion. Or it could have been from the weeks of trauma, jitteriness, pain and loss. Whatever it was, Edgar heard his older brother's words about letting go and felt the tears building even before the first swat ever fell. "Even today (sob)."

Erased. New words. "**Especially today**." _I almost lost you yesterday. You think that doesn't weigh on my mind. That's why we're in this shitty position_.

Edgar started crying so suddenly that Sig wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He raised his right hand and swatted his youngest brother's backside with a resounding slap. He paused only for a moment, letting his brother bury his head back down into his makeshift hiding place before continuing.

Gasping at the first swat, Edgar felt the sting as an aftershock. The first swat was followed by several others, full strength, hearty swats that indicated in crystal clear terms Sig wasn't messin' around. No warning or warm-up swats were going to be given so Edgar gave into the spanking and cried quietly into his arm, his shoulders heaving with each sharp sting of his big brother's hand.

The oldest brother didn't feel the need to lecture. His hand was doing a fine job of doing the talking for him. He swatted his brother's boxer-clad bottom hard, alternating sides of his buttocks and landing two swats in a row to underscore his displeasure of the previous night's events. He warmed up Edgar's bottom in record time, working his way over the crest of each mound and down to the sit spots and thighs, keeping a steady pace and controlled weight of each delivery.

Edgar started flinching, picking up on his brother's pace and anticipating the hand coming in his direction. He tried very hard to keep still but his body wanted to betray him. His backside was already burning after only twenty swats and he didn't know how many more were coming.

In a futile attempt to restrain himself, Edgar reached over and tried to grab at the edge of his bed with his bandaged right hand.

Catching the movement out of his eye, Sig increased the noisiness of the spanking by cupping his palm. "NOPE," he said loudly over the sounds of hand meeting a soft, fleshy area, "You're only(swat) gonna hurt (swat) yourself(swat)." He pressed his left hand down on Edgar's back in an effort to comfort him.

"Its(swat)…hard(swat)," Edgar whined, gasping between the stinging sensations, "without…something(swat)…to hold onto(swat)."

Sig kept up his pacing but lessened the intensity of the swats being delivered. He understood exactly what Edgar was saying, remembering how it helped him to hold onto the kitchen table's edges. He searched for a solution, absentmindedly swatting his brother's backside with the type of swats he usually started with, medium intensity and a few steps above a love tap. _A pillow may work but the fluffy softness isn't the solid security he's looking for._

Edgar sensed that the spanking had taken a detour and the swats he was getting were just to keep the fires burning on his lower cheeks so that when they began again with gusto, it wouldn't seem so bad.

"This isn't what either(swat) one of us is used to," Sig finally said, "I can't put(swat) my arm around your waist and you're clearly(swat) uncomfortable. I just don't have a solution for either(swat)."

"It's OK(swat)," Edgar whispered, tears of frustration and exhaustion streaming down his face.

_I don't know if this is gonna work but we'll give it a try_. Suddenly, the swats stopped. "Can you back up?" Sig asked a confused little brother.

"OK. Why?" Edgar asked as he shimmed backwards, his butt off his brother's right thigh and dangling in the air as he bent over.

Sig spread his knees far apart and used both his hands to reposition his brother again over his lap, this time Edgar's flat stomach rested in the spot between them. "Rest your head on my knee, wrap your arms around my leg," Sig instructed gently.

Edgar complied, settling his backside over Sig's right thigh and resting his unbruised cheek on his left knee. He reached down and entwined his arms around the back of Sig's knee and lower leg, letting his bandaged hands droop downward toward the floor.

"Feel secure?" Sig asked, readjusting his brother's shirt and rubbing his back with his warmed right hand.

"Yeah but I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt you," Edgar said honestly. He couldn't deny the rough fabric of his brother's jeans against his face was reassuring. He also liked the solidness of his big brother's powerful leg muscles and the faint scent of the dryer sheets the family always used. It was the perfect mixture of strong masculinity and comforting femininity he needed at that moment.

"I'll be fine," Sig said, stroking his brother's hair and brushing the stray locks out of his eyes, tucking them behind his exposed ear. Placing a splayed hand on Edgar's neck, he rubbed the area gently before returning to the backside in front of him.

Sig started the swats again, feeling Edgar's arms increasing their hold of his leg. Picking up where he left off, he focused on the curve of his brother's bottom, building the strokes in intensity.

It didn't take long for Edgar to begin crying again, the swats re-igniting the fire at a rapid pace, but he was better able to control his movements, flinching slightly but grasping Sig's leg for stability. His brother's hand fell with a steady, controlled and almost methodical pattern, working every area of the poor tender bum.

Sig could feel the tears coming off his brother's cheeks and pooling on his jeans, a new heartache from a new position he didn't anticipate. Ignoring the soft sobs, warm tears and small flinches, Sig lit into his little brother and finished this part of the punishment with several hard swats to the crest of his brother's buttocks.

Then, he didn't hesitate to remove his left hand from Edgar's neck and place it on the hem of Edgar's boxers.

Edgar knew this was coming but began sobbing harder. In a moment of pure weakness, he begged, "Please…do you have to?" as he looked back and tried to catch his brother's eye.

Sig wanted to say: _"I'm the one that has to be tough here. You don't, anymore…so cry all you like…but I'm not tolerating another lie or secret between us…ever. You were warned…you ignored the warning."_ Instead, he played the strong, silent card and steeled his heart, ignoring the pleading eyes staring back at him. Pushing up the fabric of his brother's boxer hem, Sig exposed the soft undercurve of his brother's bare bottom. The flesh underneath was deep pink and hot to the touch.

The eldest brother didn't wait, because if he had, he would have caved like an uncooked soufflé. Applying six hard swats to the bare flesh with his equally bare hand, Sig hoped that the skin-to-skin contact this time would not be so easily overlooked or forgotten.

Edgar was sobbing like a baby, holding onto his brother's leg for dear life and taking the bare swats the best he could. _It hurts…REALLY hurts_. He almost panicked when Sig returned the fabric of one boxer leg and bunched up the other. _The licking of a lifetime, remember_, he told himself before screwing his eyes shut. _I need my brother to be tough. I just hope he realizes I'm the only one in the family that's ever gotten it bare. Should I be proud of that?_ Edgar buried his eyes into his brother's thigh and held on; taking another six bare swats to his exposed sit spot.

Sig replaced the fabric. Edgar didn't even have time to hiss as the soft fabric came back in contact with his tender flesh. Sig finished with two swats each to the tops of his brother's bare thighs, punctuating each with the following words, "NO(SWAT) MORE(SWAT) LIES(SWAT) or SECRETS(SWAT)."

Like a wet noodle, Edgar went completely limp over his brother's wide lap, sobbing hard tears as the sting built to an inferno across his lower backside. If he truly was a baby dragon, fire would be coming from his ass and not his mouth. All Sig could do was stroke his brother's silky hair and let him use his leg as a Kleenex to soak up the tears.

Giving Edgar a few minutes to recover, Sig spoke complete nonsense of "Shhh," "I know it stings" and "I hate being so tough on you." The big brother was silently crying, wiping the tears off his face with the sleeve of his shoulder. He desperately wanted to rub the sting out of his brother's backside, knowing the poor kid couldn't even do it himself (if Edgar would ever lower himself and give into the temptation) because of his hands. _I know. I know…it defeats the purpose. Let him feel my fears, anxiety, displeasure and disappointment for a while. I just hate that he's hurting…and…we're not done._

~tbc


	51. Breaking Waves

The rain began picking up in intensity, the wind blowing through the Japanese maple tree outside of Edgar's bedroom and scraping the branches alongside the glass window.

The ample room had taken on a quiet atmosphere, the sounds of the hearty swats to a bared backside becoming a vanishing memory. Now, the noise of Edgar's muffled sobbing against Sig's leg and the oldest brother's soft, comforting words in his deep male voice were the only sounds left.

Overwhelmed by what just happened, Edgar's tears became an excuse to hide how he was really feeling. _Oh my God, I am so freaking disappointed in myself. How could I ask him if he had to? I even begged, like a baby, for it not to happen. I wanted so much to take this spanking well but ended up crying right from the start. And then, to add insult to injury, I whined and cowered like a little kid. I knew what to expect, there were no surprises and Sig was completely honest with me. God knows, I earned it. But I acted like a coward. I just want him to be proud of me, see me as the tough guy I am but I behaved like a wuss and ruined that, too. What must Sig think of me now?_

After a few more minutes, Edgar's sobbing died down to occasional tears and his breathing became more regulated. The gasping sobs abated and he tried to focus on his oldest brother's soothing words and the comforting, slow circles being rubbed around his back. He still clung to Sig's leg like a lifeline, concealing his face and his shame.

When Sig felt his brother's respiration calm down to an even keel, he asked sincerely, "Um, I'm not sure if this is a stupid question right now or not but…are you OK?"

Edgar swallowed, rubbing his cheek against the tear-soaked denim of his brother's jeans. "Yeah," he said in a small, higher-than-usual voice, "That was pretty damn personal, Sig." _My butt will be feeling the personal effects for some time. Maybe that's why I feel so angry all of a sudden and I don't feel as tired as I did before? I am still tired, right? I can't tell because I'm so damn mad at myself!_

_Interesting that he called me by my first name as opposed to 'sir.' It's not that I mind but the timing of it is a little off, all things considered_. "I take anything that tries to come between us pretty damn personal, Edgar," Sig quipped back, "That includes lying and keeping secret plans from me."

"I think I'm going to remember that for a while," Edgar reflected, the prickly sting and his big brother's handprint on his backside enhancing his contemplation.

"Remember it for the rest of your life," Sig said quietly, his tone hardened, "Not just because you felt my hand to your skin but because I'll never let anything drive us apart." Glancing down at the back of Edgar's bare legs, Sig again took note of the fading bruises running down his brother's calves. _No one will ever kick you or beat you like that ever again. Secrets - that's where they lead to; you getting hurt and me getting my heart thrown in a blender._

"Nothing?" _Like you going to Alaska and moving on with your life._

"Nothing," Sig declared with conviction, "Not a mile or a million miles. Not an argument or disagreement. You could go weeks without calling me and I'd still feel as close to you as I do right now."

"I'll always call," Edgar spoke defensively, looking back at his brother's chiseled face.

"Ummm," Sig hummed, "We'll see what happens in the future. I might be such a hard-nosed crab boat captain that you may avoid calling me in the off season."

"Can you take me with you?" Edgar asked suddenly, rambling without thinking as the novel idea struck him. _Why didn't I think of this before?_ "Not just when I'm older but now. Maybe I can do, like, homeschooling on the boat in the fall, except it would be boatschooling. You could be my teacher and assign homework and reading and stuff. _No writing assignments, I hope_. Or I could quit school altogether. I hate it, anyhow. I could help you on the boat. You know, fix stuff, like at the lake last time we went." _Be proud of me again like you were that day when I fixed the engine; not like today when you think I'm a disobedient, untrustworthy weakling._

Sig would have laughed if it wasn't for the earnestness in Edgar's voice. "Come here, let me talk to you face-to-face for a minute," the eldest brother commanded, assisting Edgar off his lap and righting him to a standing position, "I think we both could use a little break, anyway." His heart compressed forcefully in his chest when the young teenager hissed and winced as the boxers rubbed against his tender flesh now that he was standing.

Involuntarily, Edgar reached back to address the stinging burn on his bottom and immediately remembered his sore, bandaged hands. He hastily placed his arms by his side, looking abashed at his big brother through lowered lashes.

"Poor kid," Sig smiled sympathetically at his little brother. 'The look' of pity Edgar had complained about earlier in the week was written all over his face.

Spotting the dreaded 'look,' Edgar squared his shoulders and defensively jutted out his chin, brushing off a lingering tear with his fingertips. Then he took a step around Sig's right knee and stood on lanky legs he had to force to remain strong by locking his knees together.

Staring his big brother straight in the eye, Edgar held his gaze with a respectful but resilient expression on his tear-stained face. Sig didn't know if his youngest brother's resiliency was pure of heart or being faked for his benefit.

_I want you to treat me like Norman. He's your little brother, too, but you still think he's tough. Doubt you called him a 'Poor kid' after he got punished._ "Did you paddle Norman over your knees?" Edgar asked brazenly, surprising both Sig and himself with the unexpected question. Unconsciously, the young teen placed both of his bandaged hands on either of Sig's knees and indicated the recently utilized location.

Treading water, Sig felt like he was suddenly floundering. _Where the hell is this question coming from and, better yet, how the hell do I answer it? I just spanked this kid standing before me not five minutes ago for keeping secrets. Yet, I don't feel right divulging this information without Norman's permission. And I'm bound to get 21 questions about 'why do I get put over your knee when he gets the kitchen table,' all of which I have to answer with 'because you're younger' and he doesn't want to hear that right now._

With a deep swallow, Sig simply answered, "That's between Norman and me, Edgar."

Edgar's eye's narrowed suspiciously. _You didn't. You probably gave him a licking over the kitchen table, treating him like the big guy he is. Why do I have to be treated like a little kid?_ "That's not fair! You guys shouldn't keep secrets from me." Sig's non-answer nagged at the young boy, making him feel excluded from some clandestine "Men's Club" he wasn't allowed to join.

_Sink or swim, I better come up with something fast._ "The answer isn't a secret. It's a confidence I have with Norman, a trust between us." Sig clarified, "If you want to know, you'll have to ask him." _Geez, kid, you're standing there in your underclothes, backside ablaze and you're getting demanding with me? What the hell is going on?_

"Whatever," Edgar grumbled, pulling his hands off his brother's knees in disgust. As the storm raged outside, a raging storm inside of Edgar began to brew.

"Excuse me?" Sig responded in a stern voice, eyebrow cocked as high as he could flex the fine, blond hair, "Did I hear you correctly?" _Back the train up because I missed something. What's with the disrespect all of a sudden?_

"Sorry," Edgar said firmly, his voice a tad deeper than normal. He dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to meet his brother's piercing glare.

_This 'sorry' for could be for a lot of things but it sounds more of an embarrassed apology than a heartfelt 'I did something wrong' sorry._ "For what," Sig asked flatly, looking for illumination.

"I'm freaking upset, alright," Edgar spat out, throwing his hands in the air with dramatic flair, "For flaking out and asking if you had to…you know," he tried to explain, his cheeks turning a hot pink color that matched perfectly with the color of his other set of cheeks.

"To spank you bare?" Sig took the initiative and spoke the embarrassing words on his brother's behalf. _This is embarrassing for me, too. I didn't think he'd bring it up. He's never asked me not to punish him before and it almost broke my heart when he did. I don't know how I got through that without breaking down, telling him to forget the whole thing and taking him out for some special treat, like ice cream. _

Edgar muttered quickly, jumbling the words together, "Ipanicked. Msorry."

Sig launched into cajoling his little brother, "It's OK…"

"NO!" Edgar cut him off, mysteriously being rude and disrespectful at what had to be the absolute worse time. Confronting his big brother, the same big brother that had just laid down the law pretty hard and still had some laying down to go, Edgar's teenage angst and pride triggered him to rebel, "It's not OK just because you say it's OK!"

_Whoa, what the heck is happening? One minute you're crying, the next minute you're angry and somewhat accusatory. My neck might break at this shifting pace. Is this hormone related? Do teenage guys get PMS?_ "Really," Sig put his hands on the bed behind him and leaned back, "Care to explain yourself?" _This testosterone spike is almost entertaining to watch. _The oldest brother ignored the fact that his hand was now inches away from the paddle placed behind him on the bed. _No freaking way I'm touching that until we've both calmed down. _

"Because," Edgar folded his arms over his chest, puffing himself up, "I promised myself I'd always be tough during a lickin'. Crying is bad enough but to…" _I can't even say the damn words._

Sig waited a tick and then finally finished his brother's sentence, "…beg for mercy?"

"Yeah…" Edgar pointed a bandaged hand in Sig's direction, "…Beg." Similar to someone else in the room, Edgar started angrily pacing back and forth, "I can't believe I did that. I don't know what the fuck happened to me! I sounded so damn weak and I hate myself for it."

"First off, I get that you're upset but I'm not sure where the language is coming from and I'd like it to stop…" Sig sat up straight, using his height advantage to non-verbally communicate with Edgar who was in charge during this process, "…IMMEDIATELY." When oldest brother clenched his teeth together to keep from yelling, a bolt of throbbing pain shot up from the lower right side of his jaw.

Sig's eyes rolled from the intense and unexpected agony and he rubbed furiously at his stubbly jaw muscles. _Holy shit, what the fuck is that?_

Freezing in mid-pace, Edgar turned and looked at his oldest brother in shock. _Did I just drop the 'F' bomb? Is that why Sig looked like someone just punched him in the face?_

Breathing through the slowly departing pain, Sig focused on his brother's emotional spiral and tried to come up with a logical explanation. _OK, I think I might understand what's happening here: He's utterly humiliated…and in an effort to 'fix' what happened, my little brother here is trying to show off for me; Hence using my birth name, the false 'machismo' and the potty mouth. Typical young man; when they've dug themself a hole, they just keep digging instead of asking for a rope. I've made this mistake more than once growing up so I should know. _ "Whatever's wrong doesn't give you the right to use grown up language, little brother."

Edgar sighed, catching himself right before he rolled his eyes and biting his tongue instead. _Yes, it IS! I'm freaking pissed off._ The small pain on his tongue was a welcome distraction from the sting radiating of his tender backside.

"Secondly," Sig hurried to get the situation back in hand before Edgar did or said something he'd come to regret, "You have no right to hate yourself because you asked for leniency." Sig paused a moment, remembering his brother's age, and asked, "Do you know what I mean by leniency?"

"Being weak," Edgar answered ignorantly, coming off a little too self-assured and seemingly annoyed.

"No," Sig explained with a slight shake of his head and unending patience that might be coming to an end, "It means when you're in pain or somehow hurting, you ask for whatever is causing the pain to be lifted or removed. It's a fairly normal reaction to any kind of hurt." _I'd like leniency from this lingering pain in my jaw._ When Edgar's irritated expression remained the same, Sig assumed he was talking over the kid's head. "Essentially," he summed it up, "You asked me to cut you a break."

"And you didn't because I didn't deserve any breaks," Edgar groused, taking a step closer to his brother, "Which I know and which is why I should have never asked for something like that. That's why I'm so mad at myself."

"There's nothing wrong with asking for a break. We all need someone to give us a break once in a while. I don't know why you're getting so worked up over it. Are you sure it's yourself you're mad at?" Sig cocked his head to the side, staring hard at his brother's face and watching the emotions play out in his unconscious manifestations. "Maybe you're mad at me for not giving you the break you asked for."

"I'm NOT mad at you," Edgar protested, his frustrations rising to the tipping point and on the verge of boiling over, "I'm disappointed in myself. I'm sure you're disappointed with me, too." Stamping his bare foot, the young teenager challenged his brother to deny the statement. _You are! You think I'm a big baby!_

Closing his eyes, Sig had to rein in and refocus his own increasing anger. _Boy, you are extremely tired, embarrassed, uncomfortable, hurting and on the verge of a temper tantrum. I can see it coming from a mile away. I remember exactly how you used to fight mom on taking a nap until you could barely stand up without falling over. Then, the tiniest thing would happen, like you didn't get your favorite swing at the playground or your stuffed animal would get a piece of dirt on it, and then holy hell would break lose. You'd go nuts, crying and fussing over nothing until you'd cry yourself to sleep. Sometimes I'd push your buttons just to get you to take a nap_.

"So," Edgar cocked his hip to the side, "Are you…disappointed in me?"

_I knew this was going to be rough but I didn't expect it to be this bad; first the heartbreak of him asking me to show him mercy and now we have to rehash the whole damn thing._ Sig opened his eyes, reached out and firmly grabbed his brother by the waist, pulling him closer.

Edgar was caught off guard by the lightning quick movement and had no choice but to comply with the strong hands pulling him over toward the edge of the bed.

The two brothers were almost nose to nose with Sig's hardened blue eyes commanding Edgar's full attention. Before Edgar had a chance to take a step back or look away, Sig put his hands up to either side of hairless, baby face and held his gaze so he couldn't turn away.

Forcefully, Sig spoke, "I'm disappointed that I have to keep repeating myself."

Edgar looked stunned, attempting to avert his eyes but a quick squeeze of Sig's hands on his face communicated that was not happening.

"Damn it, kid, how many times do I have to say these things?" Minus the cuss word and deeper voice, Sig would have sounded exactly like their mother, "I want you to tell me what's going on…ALL the time. Asking me to not spank you bare was just your way of telling me you were a little scared. And I would have given anything, anything in the world, to not do it. It damn near broke my heart but I can't show that to you because the last thing I want to do is add to your guilt. As hard as it was, I had to hold you accountable for your actions. So I did it and I did it quick and now it's over, so LET IT GO!"

"I'm embarrassed," Edgar cried, his green eyes pleading and wanting to escape his oldest brother's brutal honesty.

"Why?" Sig felt horrendous, struggling to find the right words and, this time, coming up short, "Because you think I somehow think less of you for asking? Are you kidding me? You already know I think you're tough but that's not all you are. Why is it so damn important to you? Toughness is not the end all and be all to life. Jesus, if it was, the next thing I know, you'll be smoking pot to look tough. Which, by the way, I will kick your ass if you ever do."

Edgar breathed out his nose, the baby dragon huffing and puffing and wishing he had some real fire to back up his anger. _I'd set that paddle lying next to you on fire and then you'd have to use that damn strap._ "I would have never asked dad that!" he snorted. _Why am acting like this? Why am I pushing him? I'm feeling out of control._

_Ouch!_ "Because you respect dad more than me?" Sig asked, unsure of why his brother's declaration hurt so much.

"NO," Edgar said firmly, "Because I'm afraid of him."

Sig's anger dissipated in an instant. "I wish you weren't afraid of our father," he said softly, releasing his brother's face and softening his stance, "But I understand why. I was afraid of him, too, when I was your age." _OK, I'm STILL afraid of him now but I'm not admitting that out loud._ "He can be…unapproachable at times and downright grouchy…but he's a good dad. He's always taken care of us."

"Mom took care of us," Edgar said defensively.

"Dad did, too," Sig admonished him, "Just not as 'hands-on' as mom was, except when it came to the discipline end of things. And I guess maybe I could consider what you asked me as like a compliment."

For the second time, Edgar was taken aback. "How?"

"Well," Sig searched for the silver lining, "At least you were comfortable enough with me to ask me to cut you a break. I don't take that as disrespectful at all." When Edgar frowned with uncertainty, Sig had to laugh, "Honest, I don't. Maybe it just shows how close we are."

"It's still pisses me off that I did," Edgar was on the verge of whining.

"Will you please stop it," Sig was on the verge of begging, "You don't have to act tough around me. Do I always act tough around you?"

Edgar started to argue but stopped. If Sig had asked that question a few months ago, Edgar would have openly argued with anybody that Sig always acted 'tough.' However, a lot had changed over the course of the past few weeks and the young teenager had to admit Sig had revealed a completely different side of himself. His oldest brother had still retained some of his 'toughness' but had also shown a tremendous amount of tenderness, affection, compassion and, more importantly, vulnerability. _Somehow, that makes Sig seem even tougher than before, just in a different way. _

The anger left Edgar's body as quickly as it came, revealing his true exhausted state. _I'm vulnerable, too, but I'm just not strong enough to accept it. I hate it, but I NEED my big brothers for so much in my life_. Deflated, Edgar staggered a little to Sig's right side. "What's wrong with me, Sig?" he asked desperately, confusion written all over his face. The light colored bruise on his cheek matched the dark circles under his eyes.

_What's wrong with you? How about you lost your mother? How about all the trauma you've suffered in the last few weeks? How about you're really tired? And let's not forget you're a teenager. The question should be: What's __NOT__ wrong? _"Nothing, Edgar," Sig said gently, stroking his brother's face and gathering the damp hair from around his eyes, "It's just been a rough morning, that's all. And the only person you really need to be asking for a break is you. You are so hard on yourself sometimes. Why is that?"

Edgar let out a deep sigh, leaning his head down and touching his big brother's forehead with his own. _I'm so tired._ "I just want you to be proud of me," he confessed in a whisper.

"I am! That's another thing I keep repeating," Sig wrapped a strong arm around Edgar's waist, "So when are you going to start listening? You don't have to prove anything to me. But, if you really want me to be even more proud of you, you'll stay in school, work really hard and graduate in five years because I'm looking forward to coming to your graduation someday. So stop this nonsense about quitting school because no one in this family would ever allow that to happen."

"Mom would kill me if she heard I dropped out," Edgar murmured with a smile.

Again, Sig was struck with the notion that his youngest brother was still holding onto their mother as if she had gone on a long vacation and would be calling any minute to check in on them. "Even more reason to stay in school," Sig responded and effectively avoided the topic of mom.

Lifting his head, Edgar stood straight up and glanced at the clock in his bedroom. It wasn't even 9:00 am yet and he felt like he'd been awake for several days. _I guess I have. _

Following Edgar's gaze, Sig looked at the clock and then back at his brother, "Got a hot date you're late for?" _Wow, it's been a long morning and it's ONLY 9!?_

"No," Edgar turned his head forward, a serious look in his eye, "No hot dates for a long while." _Not that I ever really had any hot dates in my life…or any dates, for that matter._

Sig couldn't help but shoot the kid a sympathetic half-smile and then returned to what he hoped was an emotionless, blank, 'non-pitying' or 'non-I want to strangle you' look. Edgar sighed, dropping his shoulders slightly and leaning against his brother's knee with the outside of his leg.

A few minutes of silence passed, the pinging of raining against glass and the hum of the air conditioner the only noises heard throughout the house. Now, not only were the sounds of the loud swats a memory, Edgar's angry words faded along with them.

Clearly, Edgar was waiting for someone else to make the next move for a change.

_He needs me to be tough…he just can't say it._ "I…I'd like to get this part over with," Sig removed his arm from around Edgar's back and picked up the paddle sitting next to him. He kept the paddle handle in his hand and let it rest on his thigh, bowing his head and staring at the long wooden implement with profound sadness. _Better this than a bullet but it still sucks. _

The little brother's heart clenched, not at the sight of the paddle but at the look on Sig's face. _That's the 'look' I hate the most. More than how my big brother looks when he feels pity or anger towards me, I hate the disappointed, defeated look he gets when he has to punish me._ "Me, too," Edgar said bravely, lifting his bandaged right hand and running it over Sig's wavy, blond hair while his oldest brother's gaze remained focused on the floor.

"Did I ever mention how much I hate this?" Sig asked, then raised his head up and took Edgar's hand off his hair and placed it in his large, rough paw.

"Once or twice," Edgar smiled, the corner of his eye's crinkling. Encouragingly, he weakly squeezed Sig's hand, feeling the raw skin under the bandages protecting the wounds on his palm.

Sig didn't dare squeeze back for fear of hurting the healing wounds. Glancing down at the soaked denim of his pant leg, he asked with certainty, "I imagine this," he nodded to the wet jeans with a tip of his head, "isn't very comfortable anymore?"

"Did I really cry that much?" Edgar asked as he noticed the wet spots, surprised as he hadn't realized it was humanly possible to lose that much fluid in one morning. _How much blood and tears do we have in our body?_

"Don't worry about it," Sig spoke softly, "Again…I'm waterproof."

"Maybe you should have borrowed a rain slicker from the boat's storage bin," Edgar said, trying to find a way to get his big brother to smile, even a little bit. _I want to see those blue eyes light up with laughter and happiness, like when you and me joke around about Little Brother codes and how Norman's afraid of spiders. _

"The Northwestern's deckhands need it more than me. Now those are some tough guys," Sig said with a smile. Then he grew serious, his smile fading, "You know why I'm not so tough anymore?" he asked suddenly, proceeding to answer his own question, "Because I'm tired of it. Norman said something the other day about just wanting to leave the toughness at our front door. He said that it's hard enough being tough for the outside world and we shouldn't have to fake being that way with each other. And I couldn't agree more."

Norman's insightful thinking shared with his youngest brother, Sig pressed his knees together and twisted his body to the side. He took Edgar's hand, tipping him forward and gently lowered his little brother's backside over his knees. Then, he slipped his own left arm under Edgar's chest and pulled him close to his shoulder.

At first, Edgar didn't understand what was happening or where he was supposed to go. His upper body was left suspended in mid-air over his bed, Sig's arm the only thing from stopping him falling face-first onto the soft mattress.

"Let me take your weight," Sig whispered, "I won't let you fall…ever."

Edgar was left with a brawny arm to wrap his own arms around and a nook of a big upper arm and bent elbow to rest his head in. As he placed his arms around Sig's, Edgar could feel his brother's downy hair standing on edge and the slight tremble as Sig struggled for a moment with the added weight. The young teenager's entire upper body was being supported by the temporary patriarch of the family and his boxer-covered backside was in a perfectly safe position for the paddle.

Sig finished his thoughts on toughness, "So leave the toughness at the front door, kid. It's just you and me, safe in here from all the raging storms outside."

Edgar grasped Sig's arm tightly. "I always feel safe with you," he whispered, rubbing his cheek along the warm, taunt skin of his brother's arm and feeling the mushy, vulnerable emotions rising again.

"It's been my role to keep you safe for thirteen years," Sig adjusted the paddle in his hand, firmly gripping the handle and moving it off his right thigh, "And, apparently, I've failed lately."

"No!" Edgar didn't want to hear his brother blaming himself for what happened at the Shack, "You didn't do…"

"Edgar…" Sig said firmly, lifting the paddle and placing it gently down on his brother's backside, leaving it rest against the crest of his buttocks.

Edgar flinched slightly against his brother as he felt the wood come in gentle contact with his bottom.

Sig wrapped his arm tightly around Edgar's middle and splayed his hand over his brother's protruding hipbone. "…You feel the physical effects of this punishment as the consequences for your actions," he explained quietly, "But, I feel the emotional effects and that's my punishment…consequences for my inactions. I screwed something up…somehow. I didn't do or explain something right somewhere along the line. And now I have to pay for it. Don't argue that point with me because nothing you say can change how I feel."

As much as Edgar wanted to argue the point, he stayed silent, respecting his brother's authority and feelings. _I really feel it's worth it to argue his logic but I can't. Sig was right; I only obey as long as I feel it's worth it to…otherwise, I DO do my own thing…and that has to stop, starting right now. _The paddle lying still across his backside also aided him with making his decision to keep quiet.

Sig sensed Edgar's restrain to keep silent and was impressed that, despite his brother's obvious desire to passionately argue over this, he was obedient and controlled himself. _Chalk one up in the 'obeying even when you don't want to' department_.

Burying his head in the nook of Sig's elbow, Edgar waited nervously, his breath uneven and the hesitation making the impending punishment that much worse. _Think about what you did to end up here. And count backwards from ten…make that fifteen_. In a very small voice, Edgar shakily spoke, "I'm ready."

Sig lifted the paddle, conscious of the last backside that had been in this position just a week ago. _I NEVER in a million years thought I'd compare my brothers' buttocks but…Norman's got a meaty backside that could withstand a solid paddling…AND I really let him have it, too, knowing I'd insult the tough guy if I didn't. Edgar, on the other hand, is much more frail and skinny…so I have to be careful and cautious. STOP STALLING_.

Letting the paddle fall with a crack against Edgar's bottom, the oldest brother focused on holding and comforting with one hand and properly chastising with the other.

Edgar winced, screwing his eyes shut and letting out a low hiss. With only one swat of the paddle, the dying embers on his backside lit anew. He dug his toes into the carpet, steadying himself for what he knew was going to be a well-earned licking. _Hell, that stings, though…I forgot how much that stings without jeans for protection._

Sig let the paddle fall again, keeping only half the intensity he used with Norman and similar to the 'oomph' he used the first time the paddle got used in over 14 years, "We shouldn't have stopped to talk…it only made it worse for you. I'm sorry." He swatted his brother hard for the third time, working his way down the tender bottom over his knees.

"It…wouldn't have…" Edgar hissed through clenched teeth, holding on tightly to his brother's arm, "…mattered."

Sig swatted his brother with another lick of the paddle, the resounding thud against the sore flesh making him wish for just the gentle sounds of the rain once more. He continued on, landing several more hard swats and feeling his little brother shaking in his effort to keep quiet. _WHY? We just went over the 'no need to be tough' discussion_.

Getting past the fifth lick, Sig stopped to punctuate his actions with words, "You will never use a fishing knife for anything other than cutting up fish and line. You could hurt yourself or someone else. Do you understand me?"

Edgar turned his head to the side. "Yes, sir," he said in a clear, respectful voice while trying to keep still and stoic. _I blew it during the first part of this punishment. Maybe I can regain some of my pride during the second half._

Laying down another lick, Sig added with a hidden smile, "And no more gambling with anything but popcorn. Understood?"

"Ow," Edgar flinched, unable to stop the small sound of discomfort from slipping past his lips. Then, he laughed nervously at the order, "Yes, sir…nothing but popcorn." _I don't mean to be disrespectful by laughing but that is kind of funny_.

Sig suppressed his own chuckle, reminding himself he was supposed to be fulfilling the role of a stern disciplinarian. "Good," he said and swatted the paddle over his brother's sit spots, "And although I feel like a damn hypocrite for saying this but…no more smoking. I don't care how nervous you are, it's just an excuse. Stop, Edgar, please! Don't end up like me, chained to those damn things while you seek comfort from however you may be feeling."

Drawing in a breath, Edgar winced and hitched his shoulders. "Yes, sir," he managed to get out before the burn intensified. The flesh of those two particular areas was more sensitive than elsewhere considering this small part of Edgar's anatomy had felt his brother's bare hand and displeasure several times over.

"Ignoring how you feel is probably a sign that whatever you're doing isn't right," Sig added with another lick, "Rethink your plans next time instead of being stubbornly set on having your mind made up."

The teenager let out a soft whimper, feeling the prick of tears behind his eyes as Sig again addressed the area with another lick. _That paddle's gonna focus solely on those spots for the rest of this punishment, I just know it_. "It…" Edgar whispered out as he struggled to find his breath. He paused, trying to regain what he had left of his stoic composure. _DON'T make him feel guilty. Don't be stupid. SHUT UP, he already knows._

"It's OK," Sig said as he readjusted his arm around his brother, leaning his head down and nuzzling Edgar's long hair with his nose, "You can tell me anything you want. Just say it."

Edgar desperately needed comfort at the moment; comfort, understanding, someone to empathize with him_._ "It…hurts, Sig," he confessed, unsure of why he felt the need to tell his brother something he surely already knew. _Not just the paddle, but everything I did to hurt you…hurts me so much._ Hearing the words come out of his mouth, Edgar was washed over with such a strong wave of guilt, he could no longer stop whatever tears he had left from coming. _I love him so much but I keep hurting him_.

_Here it is…my punishment. I told him I always want to know how he's feeling so why does it feel like there's a dagger piercing my heart._ Sig felt his brother start to cry in his arm, the soft sobbing and slight heave of his shoulders communicating all his hurts.

"Jeg vet, lillebror. Det gjorde vondt meg osgaa," the eldest brother communicated his own pain, "But it's nothing compared to how we would have felt if we lost you last night." He let the paddle's next swat over the same area serve as a reminder of just how much he meant what he said.

The shaggy-haired kid flinched so hard at the well-placed swat, Sig had to steady them both with a stiff upper body. The young teen cried brokenly into his brother's shoulder, gripping Sig's arm for comfort and coming close to cutting off the circulation of blood to this oldest brother's left hand.

The tall blond spoke passionately, "So…you will NEVER, NEVER do something so careless with your life ever again. And don't bother answering me with 'yes, sir' this time. Just think about all the things you saw when your life flashed before your eyes. THOSE things, like a family that loves you and an awesome future in front of you, should help you decide what REALLY has worth and irreplaceable value."

_Norman. Dad. Sig. But mom's not a part of that…stop thinking about it. She's still with me, too._ Edgar gasped through his sobs, soaking the skin of his brother's arm with new tears, "I'm so…sorry. I'm sorry. Please…" His lengthy bangs hung over Sig's arm, dangling over the bed like a light brown mop with blond highlights from the summer sun.

_Now those are the heartfelt 'sorrys' I was looking for._ Sig had to harden his heart, choking on his own emotions. _I'm so sorry, too._ He swallowed down the lump in his throat, suddenly very tired of being tough but resigned to get through this and confirm to his little brother that he'd always be strong when it came to handing out the consequences, "Three more and then we're done. We'll get through it quick, OK?"

Nodding vigorously against Sig's arm, Edgar wanted nothing more than to get this all over with and curl up onto his big brother's accessible lap. He was beyond exhausted, backside on fire and truly fearful that he had pushed his oldest brother too far with his latest lapse in judgment.

"Please, Sig…please don't go to Alaska yet. I still need you," the youngest Hansen spoke from the deep recesses of his heart.

_Edgar, you're going to have to let me go at the end of the summer. We're living these months on borrowed time already._ Sig grasped his brother tightly, his only means of providing comfort and reassurance and gave the lowest part of Edgar's bum three hard, rapid licks of the paddle. _Please, please let me never have to pick this damn thing up again._ He tossed the paddle onto the floor, not even bothering to hide it under the bed this time.

Edgar's brain barely had time to register the burning swats as they fell quickly, only really experiencing the tremendous sting after the last lick had been applied. He was crying hot tears as the burn on his backside evened out as the paddling ended. Sig had gotten it over quickly, as he had promised, but made a lasting impression that would live long beyond the eventually fading sting. Sobbing deep gasps, Edgar let the tears stream down his face and drip off his chin onto the bedding.

Sig cradled his brother in his arm, using his right hand to rub his brother's back. "It's over," he repeated the words softly, like a chant, allowing his brother time to process and recover from a very long, difficult and emotional ordeal. Sig held Edgar tight to his side but not so much that the young teen couldn't stand back up, lie down or, essentially, pull away if the affection was unwanted.

Embarrassed by some of his words and reactions, Edgar hid in his big brother's arm for as long as he could and avoided the cobalt blue eyes currently staring a hole into the back of his head with worry. Finally, the need to curl into the safety of Sig's lap and be forgiven, reassured and reminded how much he was loved was more powerful than the feeling of disappointment in himself. _This was NOT how I wanted this punishment to go. I wanted to take this well, show my oldest brother how apologetic I was, and still am, and accept my punishment like a man. Instead, this turned out to be my worst, most childish and weakest reaction to a punishment ever!_

Pushing his chest back against Sig's arm, Edgar slowly stood up from his bent position, his legs slightly shaky from awkwardness of the angle and tension from the paddle's sting. Sig guided his brother with strong arms, making sure the boy was steadily on his feet before removing his hands from around Edgar's arms.

Looking up, Sig reached a hand to his brother's face and wiped away some of the tears still lingering on his cheeks. "I need you, too, Edgar," Sig said with a deep swallow of dry air into his lungs. He stared into the same green eyes that had told him countless times to do his homework and be home for supper and he began to cry.

His chin quivering, the oldest brother coughed before he said the flowery words typically reserved for poets and effeminate men, neither of which fit Sig's self- profile. "When you look at me…" he sniffled back the goo burning his nose.

Edgar stared at his oldest brother, waiting for some signal that it was alright to touch him and begin their traditional post-punishment conversation of apologies, forgiveness and rebuilding of their brotherly bond as the disciplinarian/recalcitrant child relationship took a back seat once more.

Sig finished his thought, one lone tear slipping off his lower eyelash and the rim of his eyes turning red as he fought back the rest. "When you look at me…it's like mom's looking back at me."

Edgar sharply drew in a breath and his eyes grew wide.

"And I want to make you both proud but, in all honesty, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. All I do know is that I'll do whatever it takes to keep this family together for as long as possible. I've…I've lost so much already." _Mom…Grand mom…Sara_. Sig dropped his gaze to the floor and choked on the words, letting the sobs take over. The guilt of hurting his brother suddenly hit him and the self-talk of 'it's for his own good' stopped working now that the event had come to an end.

In one of the rarer moments between them, Edgar made the first move and put his arms around Sig's neck. Sig gladly accepted the embrace, sliding forward toward the edge of the bed and spreading his knees apart. He pulled Edgar gently into his lap, burying his head into the soft shaggy hair and settling his youngest brother comfortably against his chest.

Committed to showing his brother exceptional compassion and gentleness after being the one to cause the hurt, Sig adjust his brother's aching bottom onto the softness of the mattress and swung Edgar's legs over his left knee to relieve some of the leverage placed on the tender flesh.

As Sig cried quietly, Edgar whispered, "I'm sorry" so softly it was almost inaudible to the human ear. The young boy didn't fully comprehend why his oldest brother was crying, the reasons too complicated for his undeveloped higher-level thinking skills to understand, but he was perceptive enough to realize he was part of the reason for the tears.

"And I forgive absolutely everything," Sig answered back just as softly, speaking through his tears and directly into Edgar's ear.

"Don't cry, Sig" Edgar pleaded, feeling hypocritical as his own tears slid down his face. "Don't be sad. I got what you said about taking care of myself and I'll be good from now on. I'll think with my head and not my heart. I just don't want to make you cry anymore."

Initially, Sig thought about explaining the complexity of his tears but reconsidered the idea. It would take too long and, in the end, he didn't know if Edgar would truly understand anyway. So, he channeled a little of his younger brother's wit. "What?" the oldest brother craned his neck to look down into Edgar's watery and tired eyes, "You're not waterproof?"

Edgar looked up at Sig's face and was gifted with the one-of-a-kind Hansen, movie star quality smile. The little brother giggled, the laugh easing his tears, sadness and a bit of the aches and pains of his heart and body. "I don't know. You want to toss me into the Bering Sea and find out?" he asked hopefully, unconsciously pointing to his new fixation of convincing Sig to change his mind and take him King Crab fishing this September.

"The Bering Sea is a pretty harsh and brutally cold way to pass the test," Sig laughed, "How 'bout we go to the town pool this weekend and see what happens? It's much warmer and, as an added bonus, we can pack some sandwiches and the baseball equipment, too."

"Norman's gonna come with us, right?"

"Of course." _Even if he doesn't want to_.

Edgar looked back and out his bedroom window, "Not today."

"No, today is a miserable day…(_for several reasons, foremost is the discomfort I placed on your bottom and that it will likely be hanging around for the rest of the day_)…for swimming, unless you're a duck," Sig answered, sniffling and brushing off a tear with his shoulder, "Maybe Sunday, huh?"

" 'K " Edgar snuggled against Sig's broad chest, burying his head in the wide nook of Sig's collarbone and neck and feeling vastly relieved the spanking was over. Despite a stinging backside and sit spots that wouldn't be used in a while, Edgar felt at ease, as if a weight had been lifted and someone untied the knot in his stomach. Sig didn't seem angry or disappointed anymore but Edgar was slightly alarmed that his big brother was still inexplicably crying.

Wrapping tight arms around his baby brother, Sig rocked him back and forth so subtly, Edgar thought perhaps he was imagining the motion. The young teen sensed the vacillating and intense emotions quieting, leaving him feeling utterly drained, relaxed and unable to keep his eyes open.

After the room grew quiet, Sig closed his eyes and said, "I may be tired of repeating myself on certain topics but there is one thing I'll never get tired of repeating. I'll give you three guesses what it is."

"Hmmm," Edgar closed his eyes, listening to the heartbeat coming from Sig's chest. _His heart beats faster than Norman's. Why is that?_ "You'll never get tired of telling Norman Pontiac makes the best cars."

"Ooooo," Sig's lips make a perfect circle and his eyes lit up, "Very good. I didn't even think of that one. OK, so they're two things I'll never get tired of repeating. What's the other?"

Edgar would have liked to play the game for a long while but didn't have the energy. _I need to hear it_. "You love me," he whispered sleepily, the warm arms surrounding him and the gentle rocking too powerful to overcome. Every muscle in his body felt like liquid and, if Sig wasn't holding him, he would have melted into a puddle on the floor.

"Ding," Sig made the traditional 'correct answer' noise and Edgar woke up with a shudder. He settled back against Sig's t-shirt and was out as quickly as he awoke.

"I love you," Sig whispered as he squeezed his brother closer, avoiding the bruises on Edgar's lower back.

"Little brother…(yawn)…code…(hmmm)…requires you…" Edgar murmured, half-asleep.

"Alright," Sig loathed relinquishing his hold on the kid, "You need to rest." He scooped Edgar up in his arms and cradled him as they both got up from the bed.

"Nooo," Edgar whined in his sleep.

"Some things never change," Sig stated, haunted by memories of his baby brother's pre-nap tantrums. As he laid Edgar on the bed and onto his side, the oldest brother essentially spoke to himself, "A quick nap and then we have stuff to do. We have to stop by Nick's house this afternoon, go to the bank and the market and maybe we can surprise Norman at work with a hot lunch. By now, he's probably bitten off half his lip worrying about you so he'll be ecstatic to see you're still in one piece."

"Nor…man," Edgar muttered affectionately, curling up on his side and snuggling his head against the pillow.

"Yes," Sig said with a hint of jealously in his tone, "Your older brother that doesn't have to handle the punishments this summer. You know, the one you still get to have that fun, easy-going relationship with while I have to be the bad guy."

"Don't…" Edgar said in his sleep, "Dad will…find…out…you were bad."

_This is like having a conversation with a drunk_. As Edgar settled into a deep sleep, Sig tossed a light blanket over his little brother and rubbed his back until he was certain Edgar was lost to the conscious world.

The physical punishment was over. This time around, Sig had shown more confidence in his role as guardian, only crumbling with self-doubt at the end. Edgar, on the other hand, never once worried if his brother would stay with him and hold him afterwards. Even if he wasn't confident in himself, the young teen had gained confidence in Sig to provide whatever was needed. And perhaps it was this confidence in his brother that allowed Edgar to vocalize his emotions and fears for the first time during a licking.

* * *

Assuring himself Edgar was safe and comfortable, Sig picked up the paddle off the floor and quietly left the room, heading down the hallway. He stopped in his parent's room and replaced the family heirloom back to the top of mom's closet. Saying a desperate prayer, he adamantly prayed he wouldn't have further need of it this summer. _I hate paddling or spanking or even grounding my brothers so please let us just have a normal rest of the summer…well, better than normal, because Norman can get wild at times_.

_Speaking of Norman…_Sig turned and approached his father's desk. Sitting in the large chair, he opened the small cabinet door and confirmed the brown parcel with his father's name on it had not been touched. _What are the chances Edgar might unknowingly say something to Norman about this mysterious box from Jostens? Should I clue him in on what's in the secret box? And what are the chances Edgar would be able to contain his excitement and keep his mouth shut? Not good! I'll have to take my chances with Edgar just forgetting this box ever came_.

Decision made, Sig left his parent's bedroom, mentally praising himself for once again going in there and not having a breakdown upon seeing mom's personal things. He went back down the hall and opened the door to his bedroom.

The bed was still unmade from the night before when he left to investigate the soft footfalls coming from Edgar's bedroom. _I always liked looking at the stars when I couldn't sleep, too. Makes you somehow appreciate the cosmic world we live in_.

Stripping off his tear-soaked clothes, Sig hung his jeans and t-shirt over his desk chair to dry. Wearing only his checkered cotton boxers, the young man wandered over to his dresser. He pulled open the top drawer and took out the school ring buried next to Edgar's fishing knife.

Carrying the ring to his bed, Sig sat down and studied the item in his hand. The ring rested in the center of his palm, looking exactly like he always remembered it. Yet, for some strange reason, it felt heavier than before. _Sorta creeps me out that Elliot wore this. Makes me want to have it professionally cleaned to get the 'thug' vibe off of it. Wonder if the cleaning would remove all the other sad emotions now attached to the ring. _

_1984: It's been a rough year. I wish I could wear this…but I just can't. Maybe…someday…maybe._

Making a fist, Sig squeezed the ring in his hand. The circular metal felt cold and hard against his skin. As much as he squeezed, he knew the ring was unbreakable and could take the assault. His hand, conversely, started to hurt from the solid metal being pressed into his flesh. The ring's unbreakable quality made the oldest brother surprisingly think of his father, not often associating the ring with dad like he did with mom.

_How the hell am I going to explain all this to my father in a way he'll understand? Jesus, will he even listen? I can only hope that when all this is said and done, he'll be OK with how I handled things this summer. And, he'll be willing to change, at least a little bit, some things in this house…and himself. Unbreakable? My hardass father has always seemed that way. I guess this time, I'm gonna have to find a way to break through._

_But there's a lot of summer left. I'll worry about dad when the time comes._

Sig leaned over, opened his nightstand drawer and dropped the ring inside with a clunk. Shutting the drawer, he absentmindedly rubbed at the painful indent the ring caused in his palm.

Crawling under his covers, the oldest brother listened to the pouring rain outside his bedroom window. _It's the perfect morning to go back to bed, not that I really slept last night. My baby brother suffered from what had to be horrific nightmares and it must have been awful. Now, today, he's still suffering…_

The thought made Sig's eyes fill with tears and he rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow and crying himself to sleep.

If the Hansens were waterproof on the outside, they certainly were not on the inside.

End Part 3

~tbc


	52. Read The Fine Print

Part 4

Sig slept for a little over an hour, waking up and feeling groggier than before he fell asleep. It took him a few minutes to shake off the cobwebs cluttering around his brain and register what time and day it was. It was not in the oldest brother's nature to sleep during the day, particularly for that length of time and he was confused as to why he was still in bed at 10:00 in the morning.

Initially panicked that he overslept and was late for work, the tall blond was half-way down the hallway and headed to the bathroom, clean clothes and work boots in hand, before he passed by Edgar's room and spotted his littlest brother sound asleep in his bed. The thirteen-year-old appeared more like a boy of five, nestled up on his side in his blanket and old tear tracks still staining his ruddy cheeks. His breathing was deep and even and a line of drool trailed from his open mouth, ending at the edge of his pillowcase.

Clear recollections of the last twenty four hours hit Sig like a brick and the post-nap fog lifted.

Powerful images flashed in Sig's mind like the slide shows of vacations and Christmas pictures mom would force the boys to watch on rainy summer days. The oldest brother could still remember the swishing and humming sounds the projector would make as mom would switch to the next oversized picture illuminated on the living room wall.

Currently, Sig's mental slide show flipped through images of the Shack: the pretty female police officer, a band of hardened gangsters, a gold ring with a blue stone, a suped-up motorcross bike, a heart-stopping phone call, a blood-covered little brother with wide, shocked eyes like a frightened rabbit and two dead bodies being carted away by the coroner. Only after the self-created phantasmagoria of Edgar's body being the one carted away to the morgue did Sig stop and take a breath, steadying himself, and remembering why he was home.

Relief poured over him like fresh rain, washing away the panic of missing work and getting fired as well as the anguish that Edgar had been shot.

_Everything is OK_, Sig sighed, stepped back from the doorway and leaned against the hallway wall. _Edgar is fine, if perhaps uncomfortable from the morning's sad events. But he's home and safe…and I'm home because some guy at work died in a horrible industrial accident._

Acquiring his bearings, Sig looked in on Edgar one more time before proceeding to the bathroom. Figuring he had clean clothes already in his hands, he took a quick but refreshing shower and, at the sink, shaved the five o'clock shadow off his face. Teeth and wet hair brushed, the oldest brother dressed, grabbed his work boots off the bathroom floor and went to head downstairs.

A nagging, lingering pain in his jaw halted his descent at the second top step and he returned to the bathroom for two aspirins. Reluctantly, he went back in his bedroom and opened the small drawer in his desk. A small business card with the name and number of the oral surgeon recommended by Dr. Krupp was buried among the other important papers and Sig dug it out, slipping it into his back pocket.

_God damn it! I thought I could avoid this a little longer. Maybe it's just nothing. _Rubbing at his jaw, Sig knew he was only kidding himself. Taking a few minutes to straighten up his room, the oldest brother then headed quietly downstairs and into the kitchen.

Making his second pot of coffee for the day, Sig spotted the newspaper lying on the kitchen table. As unlikely as it was for Edgar to read the paper, Sig felt it best to dispose of the entire newspaper that included the article about the two dead men. He went outside, dropped the paper off in the trash can and lit a cigarette. The rain was still coming down heavy and the skies were a menacing black and gray mass that swirled with threatening anticipation.

The oldest Hansen inhaled the nicotine and watched the rain teeming off the porch roof. Parts of the street were starting to succumb to small ponding of water and a stiff wind blew through the air. _This could be a bad one_, Sig thought as he studied the sky and direction of the wind. He pulled his button down shirt closed, surprised at the chilly wind in the midst of summer.

Coming back inside the house, Sig went over and picked up the phone in the kitchen. Dialing the number from memory, he waited for someone to pick up the other line.

"Hello," a young, male voice answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Matt," Sig sounded happy to hear the kid's voice, "This is Sig, Edgar's brother. How are you?"

"Good. Ed's not here, sir," Matt said, his voice slightly distressed and growing timid.

Sig chuckled, "No, he's home with me. Actually, I'm looking for Nick. He around?"

Crunching on potato chips, Matt mumbled in a more laidback tone, "Naw, he's at work. He should be home this afternoon. You want me to tell him you called?"

"Well," Sig said slowly as he thought out his plans, "I have something to drop off for him. Are you going to be home for a while?"

"Yup," Matt answered, half listening to the TV in the background, "I gotta go to my dad's this weekend but Nick's taking me over there later. I'll be home this afternoon."

Sig couldn't help but feel terrible for Matt's situation. _It must suck to be shuttled back and forth between houses_. Again, he realized how lucky he and his brothers were to have parents that loved each other 'till death do you part.' Their father loved their mother until the day she died and she surely loved him back. _Maybe a love like that never dies, even after one of the two is gone?_

"Alright, see you in a few hours?" Sig wanted to confirm the plans since it seemed like Matt might not be paying total attention to their conversation.

"Sure," Matt said absentmindedly, adding at the last minute in a more focused voice, "Is Ed done with my Atari?"

"I think so," Sig answered. _He's done with it now, even if he doesn't know it_. "We'll bring it with us when we come over. Sound OK?"

"Alright."

"See ya."

"Bye."

Pressing the hook with his index finger, Sig balanced the receiver on his shoulder and retrieved the business card from the back of his jeans pocket. He dialed the number and waited for an answer.

"Dr. Owen's office. Can I help you?" asked a cheery receptionist on the other line.

Sig swallowed. _Can you make the pain go away…for free and without causing more pain?_ "Umm, yes, Dr. Krupp recommended me. I need to schedule an appointment."

"What's your name?"

"Sig Hansen, ma'am."

"I seem to recall X-rays being sent over from Dr. Krupp's office with that name," the woman mentioned with a laugh, "It's a rather unusual name so it's easy to remember."

_I've been told that a few times in my life, _Sig thought as he rolled his eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, you'll need to come in for a consultation with the doctor. What time of day works for you?"

"Evenings would be best."

"Let me check," the woman rustled through her appointment book, "I have an opening this Wednesday at 5:30."

Inwardly, Sig groaned. _THAT soon?! Better just man up and get this over with. Maybe the doctor will tell me it's just normal pain from my teeth shifting_. "I'll take it."

"Good, we'll see you then."

"Um, ma'am" Sig asked hesitantly, "How much does the consult cost?"

"The consult is $50 up front," she answered.

Sig sighed. _Seems like a lot of money for someone to tell me I'm fine_. "Alright, thank you. I'll see you on Wednesday."

"Wednesday it is, Mr. Hansen."

Making his goodbyes, the oldest brother hung up the phone and regretted having to shell out money for himself that the family needed for other things. _I guess there's nothing I can do about it_. Pouring a cup of coffee, Sig took his mug out into the living room. Turning on the TV, he sat down and watched the local mid-morning newscast.

Within minutes, three back-to-back stories captured his undivided attention.

The first report almost caused the handsome young man to drop his steaming cup of hot coffee in his lap. Grabbing the mug with both hands, Sig sat forward and glared at the TV.

A well-dressed reporter wearing a matching tie and vest and huddling under an umbrella was broadcasting live from outside the Shack. The report showed file footage clips of last night's grisly crime scene as well as the Chief of Police's interview this morning. _Jesus Christ, there were reporters there last night? Shit, I didn't even notice them!_

Unconsciously holding his breath, Sig scanned the background scenes of the TV for images of his brothers or himself. _Please let us not show up in this video. Norman does not want to make his TV debut like this_.

Luckily, no Hansen brother was captured by accident in the broadcast clips and the Chief of Police had spun a tale this morning about a gang of thugs being involved in a shootout over drugs. Of course, the heavyset Chief was making the most of it, alluding to the police force's great detective work in solving the case. _Really, was it that hard to figure out?_

Back in the newsroom, the news anchor reported about the two dead men at the Shack. Colored pictures of Elliot and Adam flashed up on the screen and Sig was mesmerized, studying the faces of the men he'd come to hate with every fiber of his being. Although they were the same pictures as in the paper, seeing them in living color as opposed to grainy black and white ink brought on a sickening feeling in Sig's chest. _Oh God, I don't even want to think about it being Edgar's picture up on that screen_.

Sig glanced up at the multitude of family pictures above the fireplace, his baby-face brother staring back at him from his 7th grade school portrait.

The news anchor reminded viewers that counselors would be on hand at the high school tomorrow for those that knew Adam and mourned his loss. _That will be no one_.

As the broadcast switched over to other news, Sig felt relieved that the topic was being changed to something else. His relief was short-lived as the next report was from the docks where he worked.

A pretty redheaded reporter was broadcasting from the warehouse where the worker had been killed the day before. Again, Sig held his breath and scanned the background of the TV for himself or anyone he recognized when shots were shown of yesterday's investigation. Fearful that either he or another one of his co-workers would be implicated in the accident, Sig was again relieved when the reporter explained that the initial report findings indicated the worker, John Kemp, was inexperienced with working on that type of equipment and had pressed the incorrect level, causing the heavy load being lifted to come crashing down on himself.

The newscaster confirmed that the docks would be re-opened tomorrow and new training requirements would be implemented by the Department of Safety for all employees.

_I don't know why I worry about this shit but you never know. I'm a good worker but everyone makes mistakes. What if I forgot to put on the safety switch for that crane and somehow caused that guy's death. How could I live with that? That poor guy and his family… How do crab boat captains deal with losing deckhands in bad storms or in deck accidents? It happens to almost every captain at least once in their lives. How do you keep yourself from going crazy when you have five or six guys' lives in your hand? Maybe that's what makes captains so salty and miserable._

As Sig reflected on his future grouchiness as a captain, the weather report came on, capturing his attention. The burly weatherman was practically gleeful in reporting about the massive storm barreling down on the area. Radar showed a large storm encompassing the west coast as well as the expected rain totals of over five inches of precipitation in the next twenty four hours.

The weatherman warned of likely flooding, widespread power outages and road closures. His only course of advice was to bring in your pets, to cancel any plans for the evening and to continue to watch his broadcasts throughout the day for the latest updates.

The eighteen-year-old had heard enough; _death, more death and now devastating weather._ Turning off the TV, he returned his empty coffee mug to the kitchen, poured a fresh glass of ice water, straw included, and headed back up to the second floor with the ice clinking against the clear glass. As much as he would have loved to let Edgar sleep for the rest of the day, there were things he hoped to accomplish before the storm made it impossible to drive.

Making his way to Edgar's bedroom, Sig quietly walked in, set the glass on the nightstand and knelt down on the floor by the large bed. Edgar was still sound asleep and looking peacefully relaxed. The kid had shifted onto his stomach, his bandaged hand hanging off the edge of the bed, the other tucked firmly under his pillow.

Sig looked at his younger brother's face and felt the sharp pangs of regret, not just for the morning's punishments, but for all the decisions he himself had made, all of which seemed to lead up to last night's fateful tragedies at the Shack. By far, it was not the first time Sig regretted the months of isolating himself after their mother died. _In my heart, I know that whatever has happened so far this summer, my withdrawing from this family set off a series of unfortunate events that almost cost my baby brother his life. Yeah, yeah, I know, he made his own choices and he paid the consequences for them. And Elliot, Adam and that crew made theirs and paid for them with their lives. _

_But Edgar would have never fell in with those bastards if I had shown him even an ounce of the affection and attention I give him now. And I can't lie to myself to protect my own feelings because I don't want to forget and make the same mistake twice. My younger brothers…both of them…can't afford it. I'm as guilty as sin and just as much to blame for all this as everyone else is…_

_But does that include my father? He was devastated when mom died…but he had three sons that needed him and he still fell apart. Damn it, I was only seventeen years old, Norm sixteen and Edgar just turned thirteen; dad was the adult. He should have held it together for us, Edgar at least, and stepped up to the plate. Instead, he left the ballpark. So how much of all this lies at dad's feet? _

As he lifted his ring-less right hand to wake his sleeping brother with a gentle touch to his face, Sig paused for a moment. _**Don't go to Alaska yet. I still need you. **_ His kid brother's honest and vulnerable words floated across the blonde's mind. _When will he STOP needing me? When will it be OK to leave? At what point do little brothers stop needing their big brothers? Does that point in life ever really come? Don't we ALWAYS need our family?_

"I can smell you," Edgar murmured suddenly, his eyes still closed.

Sig flinched at the unexpected voice, caught in his own deep musings and brought back to the present moment. Since Edgar maintained the same posture and closed eyes, the oldest brother wasn't sure if the kid was just talking in his sleep until he caught the hint of a smile on Edgar's lips.

Lowering his hand from mid-air, Sig placed it lightly on Edgar's forearm. "And what do I smell like?" he inquired, scanning his recollections and trying to remember if he put on deodorant after his shower.

"Like…aftershave lot…ion," Edgar croaked, his throat parched from crying. He kept his eyes closed and snuggled up against his pillow.

"I shaved this morning," Sig admitted with feigned guilt, "Sorry you missed the big event. But, I can pretty much guarantee it will happen again this weekend so I'll let you know ahead of time when it does."

"I like the stuff you use…when you shave," Edgar mentioned, swallowing to get some saliva in his mouth and vanquish the sandpaper feeling in his throat.

"Why?" _How would you know if it's any good? You don't shave yet_.

"I just like the smell," the young teenager shrugged. _It always reminds me of you_. Edgar opened his eyes, "And I smell cigarettes."

_Damn it_. Sig sighed and tilted his forehead to the side. His blue eyes flashed with true guilt this time. "I know," he said blushingly, "I cracked after less than a week. I'm sorry, kid. I really tried. And I have no excuses for going back except a lack of willpower."

"You don't need any excuses," Edgar scanned his brother's smoothly shaven face, "You're old enough."

"Old enough to know better," Sig groused, annoyed with himself for falling off the wagon.

Edgar asked, unable to disguise the hope in his voice, "Will you try to quit again?"

"Probably all my life," Sig confessed with a grin.

Offering his oldest brother a weak smile, Edgar nodded his understanding. _Norman's not gonna like that_.

"Here," Sig leaned back and took the glass of ice water off the nightstand. He positioned the straw towards Edgar's mouth as the kid rose up on his elbows.

For the second time that day, Edgar drank the cool water and wondered how Sig knew what he needed before he even had a chance to ask for it.

"Better?" Sig asked quietly as he watched the liquid disappear and the ice cubes sink to the bottom of the glass. _It's a meager offering to the discomfort you must be in but it's all I got…that and any and all hugs you might want today. That is…if you want a hug from the guy that took away your bike and your freedom, lectured you until your ears fell off and caused that discomfort on your bottom._

"Yes," Edgar pushed the straw away with his tongue, "I'm fine. Thank you." He laid his head back down on the pillow, languishing in the feeling of the warm bed and the soft blanket surrounding him. He yawned as he stretched out, aware of his tender backside for the first time as the covers rustled against him. Careful to avoid openly wincing, he prolonged the yawn a second longer than needed.

Setting the glass back down, Sig turned back to his brother, feeling his shoulders stiffening and the air between him and Edgar taking on a strange level of uncertainty.

The eldest brother was full of questions, all relating to Edgar's welfare and current discomfort level, but he didn't know where to start. Reaching over, Sig lifted his hand off Edgar's arm and carded his brother's hair out of his eyes, "Did you sleep OK? Any bad dreams?"

Having to think about it, Edgar answered, "Not that I remember."

"Good. You needed the rest," Sig nodded with a tentative smile.

"Did you sleep?" Edgar asked, noticing his brother's nervousness. _Why does Sig seem so out of sorts?_

"Yeah," Sig retracted his hand and rested it on the edge of the bed, "I was just as tired as you. It's been a tough few days." He started kneading the fitted sheet clinging to the bed, worrying the fabric between his fingers. Finding it difficult to look into the questioning green eyes staring back at him, the oldest brother lowered his gaze and focused on the folds in the bedding.

The shaggy haired young teen studied his oldest brother's nervous motions and the looks of concern and uncertainty on the freshly shaven face at the edge of the bed. _You can't look at me. Why, because you feel bad about having to punish me? Because you're worried I have hard feelings toward you? I wish you wouldn't feel that way. But you told me not to argue with you over it. And I have to obey you, even when I don't want to…and even when you're wrong. Maybe there's a way around this_.

"Tell me about it," Edgar prodded gently, "Tell me about these tough few days. What happened to make them so tough?"

Sig popped his head up, surprised by the obscure question and looking a little stunned.

Edgar smiled at the shocked look on Sig's face. He tip-toed his fingertips over Sig's arm and asked encouragingly, "It looks like maybe that kid brother of yours is causing you a lot of trouble. What'da he do this time?"

"He's giving me a lot of gray hair," Sig said with a laugh, his shoulders dropping back into a more natural, relaxed position. _I can play this game, too, considering I invented it. Man, this kid really does pick up on my examples. More reason to try and quit smoking again. _

"That's funny," Edgar seemed concerned, reaching up and pretending to find the gray hairs hidden among all the honey blond ones, "I don't see any gray hairs."

"They're gray hairs in the making," Sig's eyes went up as if to search for the mysterious odd colored locks.

"So," Edgar put on his most serious face, bringing his hand back down to the bedcovers, "How is this kid giving you gray hairs at such a young age? Eighteen seems awful young to look like an old man."

"I feel like an old man sometimes," Sig lamented, "As a matter of fact, I feel like my Old Man. I never realized how hard all this parenting stuff is."

"Your younger brothers think you are doing a great job, though."

"It doesn't feel like I'm doing that great."

"Why," Edgar asked, "Because those younger brothers keep getting in trouble…well, mostly that youngest brother of yours? He's a real handful!"

"He's keeping me on my toes, that's for sure," Sig said with a wide smile, "But he's a great kid with a heart of gold and I won't have anybody bad mouthing him." The oldest brother pointed a finger in Edgar's direction, growing defensive. "I've got the best little brothers in the world and nobody better say otherwise or they'll have to deal with me."

Edgar stifled a giggle, "You sound like an overprotective big brother."

"Darn straight," Sig said in an unwavering voice, "I am overprotective when it comes to my brothers and I'll make no apologies for it."

"You shouldn't have to make apologies. You're the big brother," Edgar said carefully and with meaning, "So I'm guessing this littlest brother of yours went and did something stupid. Did he get into big trouble this time?"

"The worst," Sig sighed, propping his elbow on the bed and resting his chin in his hand. He looked just as serious as Edgar, although his somber expression wasn't being faked. "My baby brother put himself in a very dangerous situation and almost got killed last night."

"You're freaking kidding me?" Edgar exclaimed, appalled at the news.

"I wish I was," Sig nodded glumly.

"What on Earth was HE thinking?" the little brother scolded.

"HE was thinking like a thirteen year old kid who just wanted to make things right and didn't know how," Sig said in defense of his brother, "And he got a little turned around in the storm, losing sight of port on the radar, and thinking he could navigate the ship home on sheer stubbornness."

"Guess the Coast Guard had to come out and drag his stern back home," Edgar nodded.

"Not the Coast Guard," Sig shook his head, "His big brothers."

"Oooo, I bet he would have rather dealt with the Coast Guard," Edgar's eyes opened wide, "They wouldn't have been nearly as mad. You must have wanted to wring that kid's neck."

"Hmmm," Sig pursed his full lips together, "At first, a little, yes…" Then he sighed, admitting, "…OK, a lot. I haven't been that angry in a long time. I was soooo angry with him." The oldest brother made a fist and squeezed it hard until the veins popped out of his wrists. "I felt like he didn't hear a word I said this summer about keeping himself out of situations where he could get hurt. And, after I hung up with the police, all I could think about on the ride over to that craphole last night was wallopin' his backside something good until he heard me this time." He forcefully slammed his fist down onto the soft bed for dramatic effect.

Edgar slid down a little under his covers, momentarily forgetting Sig was talking to him about 'someone else' and recalling the look on his big brother's face as he approached the Shack's filthy dumpster. _I'm damn lucky he found his patience this summer, that's all I got to say. _

"But," Sig continued quickly, letting his fist out and spreading his flat hand onto the covers, "When I saw him, all I could think about was how close I came to losing him and I knew all that anger was just a cover up to keep myself from going bonkers with worry."

"But he was fine," Edgar reassuringly nodded with a bright grin.

"THIS time," Sig fired back, nudging his brother in the shoulder, "THIS time he got lucky to walk out of there on his own two feet…covered in someone else's blood. He forgets that, last time, I carried him out…in my arms…covered in bruises and his own blood…with my heart breaking the whole damn time."

Edgar's smile turned to an unreadable expression.

"AND I couldn't believe that he would willingly disobey me and go back after everything he'd been through down there," Sig added, "So even though my anger faded, I was still very upset…VERY upset…with him."

With a loud gulp, Edgar asked tentatively, "How did you handle being that upset? Did you holler at him when you got home?"

"I wanted to," Sig confessed, "I wanted to yell to the rafters and asked him why. Why would he be so reckless with his own life when he knew how much he was loved and cared about in our family?" The oldest brother paused, taking a breath and symbolizing the 'time-out' he'd given himself the night before. "But, as my other little brother wisely reminded me, my kid brother wouldn't have listened if I started yelling so I thought it best for us all to just go to bed and deal with it in the morning."

"Did you go to sleep right away?"

"No, I couldn't. I was sick over how I was going to handle the situation," Sig said honestly, "So I worked out in the basement and had a very long talk with my younger, wiser brother who helped me put it all in perspective."

"Really?" Edgar quipped, his curiosity suddenly peaked at the hope he might get to hear about a private conversation between his two older brothers. _What do you guys talk about when I'm not around? I'm dying to hear this_. Carefully, Edgar rolled over onto his back and sat up, leaning against the pillows in front of the headboard. He completely ignored the tenderness of his lower cheeks and gave no outward signs of distress. "What did you and your brother talk about in the basement?"

Watching his youngest brother shift around with a wary eye, Sig scanned the kid's face for a wince or flinch. When none were evident, the oldest brother intuitively sensed Edgar was trying to protect his feelings by hiding the hurt. _Don't do that, kid. Don't hide the hurt from me. I know you're…uncomfortable…sore, even. Please don't try and protect me by toughing your way through it. _

Edgar settled against the headboard, staring questioningly at Sig, "Basement?" _I'm hiding the pain today. Do NOT feel sorry for me because I knew five minutes after coming up with this plan on Saturday afternoon, that I carried out Thursday night, that my butt would feel this way on Friday morning._

_Fine, I'll honor his 'bravery' although I'm considering it more fulsome and protective than brave._ "Basement?" Sig had to remember what they were talking about, "Oh yeah, basement. My younger brother found me working out in the basement and, being whip-smart as he is, he knew I was pretty much beside myself with everything."

"Smart, is he, this younger brother of yours?" Edgar asked, a mixture of pride and personal longing in his voice. _I want you to be proud of me like that someday_.

"Extremely," Sig confirmed with a smile, standing up and stretching his long legs. Then he sat on the end of Edgar bed, leaning back against the low, wooden footboard and keeping his work boots firmly on the carpeted floor. "I was a wreck, blaming myself for what my youngest brother did last night."

"Sig…" Edgar started.

Sig cut him off, "I did. I blamed myself for all kinds of reasons, none of which I want to revisit right now. _Who taught you how to play poker again? Oh, yeah…ME! _ But mostly I blamed myself for not protecting my kid brother…and maybe not telling him or showing him enough how much he means to me…and this family."

Edgar didn't want to revisit this part, either. "This super smart brother of yours must have set you straight."

"He did."

"What did he say?"

"He explained that you…I mean, my youngest brother, Edgar…made all his own decisions and that they had nothing to do with me or my 'parenting' abilities this summer. My younger brother effectively explained that everything that happened came solely from my kid brother's decisions alone."

Edgar nodded firmly, "Your younger brother IS very smart."

"Told you," Sig crossed his arms over his chest, "And he told me that it was my responsibility to find a way to explain to my kid brother where he went wrong in his decision making."

"Oh, goodness," Edgar scratched his temple with his left index finger, "Sounds like a lot of pressure for an eighteen year old."

"I'll admit, I was scared to death I was gonna screw it up," Sig leaned forward, "But I knew I had to get this right because my kid brother had to understand what he did was wrong so it wouldn't happen again in the future."

"So," Edgar asked, "Did you pull it off? I mean, getting him to understand?"

"I pray to God he was listening this time," Sig leaned forward even more, shifting closer towards his brother.

"He was," Edgar replied quietly, shifting forwards toward Sig, "But tell me what you did to get him to listen…so I know what to do when I have kids someday."

"Well, I told him exactly what was in my heart," Sig explained, "Some of it was hard to say because I knew I was going to hurt him. But, I realized that the punishments he had coming meant absolutely nothing if I didn't explain where he went wrong. So, as hard as some of it must have been to hear, I said what I had to…MOSTLY without yelling…but it all came from my heart…not my anger or frustration or even from blaming myself."

"I hope you punished him good after all that explaining," Edgar pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging his arms around his legs. He rested his chin on the blanket and gave his oldest brother direct eye contact. "He had it coming, you know."

"I know," Sig said, his strong voice suddenly dropping to a whisper, "But that didn't make it any easier."

"How'd you punish him?"

Sig uncrossed his arms and bowed his head. He felt like he was making some sort of confession, a cleansing of his soul and an outlet to release the guilt built up in his stomach. In a quiet, church-like voice, he said, "Honestly, it broke my heart but I punished him harsher than ever before. I took away his bike, grounded him and I…" Sig's voice trailed off, "…spanked him," he spoke the words just above a whisper, finding them just as difficult to say now as they were in the kitchen earlier that morning.

"Sounds more than fair," Edgar said sternly, "I would have taken the belt to that kid every night for a week and grounded him for the rest of his life."

"Remind me to check in daily on my future nieces and nephews when I get older and make sure they're still alive," Sig said with a smile towards the floor.

Edgar laughed at the thought of being a father someday. It was still a funny and foreign concept to a thirteen year old boy. "So…how did your kid brother handle all of those punishments?" he asked shyly, a little afraid of the answer. _I didn't handle it like I told myself I would and I'm still worried he thinks less of me now_.

"Better than most men I know," Sig said, looking up and catching his brother's eye, "He accepted the consequences of his actions with more maturity and grace than I ever could, considering it was his big brother dishing them out and not his father…or mother. He didn't complain about losing his bike or being grounded, although I know how much those things must hurt him."

"Then maybe he needed you to lay down the law pretty hard after all," Edgar spoke softly, a slight tremor in his tone. _This fact is not something kids ever admit so it's probably a silly thing to say…but, I think my oldest brother needs to hear it from someone right now and it might as well be me._ "You know, drag him back to port, drop anchor and tie him to the docks so he doesn't get lost again." The shaggy-headed kid with the tangled hair and fading bruises on his face finished his thought with his best heartfelt and honest smile.

Sig sighed with undisguised relief, the corners of his mouth crinkling with a thankful grin. Yet, despite the comforting feeling, the role changes this summer were starting to wear on the eldest brother. "I'd rather be the one going out with him on his big adventures than the one that has to lay down the laws when he goes adrift. I just want to be the cool big brother who gets in trouble WITH him instead of the bad guy who has to handle the trouble AFTER it's over." _Shit, it's not about what I want anymore; I keep falling into this trap again and again. I'M THE ADULT NOW!_

Edgar dropped his eyes, saddened by his big brother's confession and touched with a pang of guilt over their current summer arrangement. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly, studying the irritating bandages wrapped around his hands.

Their little game of talking in third person had come to a sudden end.

_I said too much. Damn it, I wish Norman was here._ "Ah, Jesus, kid," Sig muttered, sounding more frustrated than he intended. He stood up, walking over to the bedroom window and peering out into the heavy rain. With his back to the bed, Sig ran his hands roughly through his hair.

Without turning around, he rapidly explained, "Please don't be sorry, Edgar." Sig glared at the rain streaming down the window, leaving trails of tears on the glass. "How things are in this family ain't your fault. It's no one's fault. None of us expected mom to pass away so young. She was only 41 years old, in perfect health. Nobody saw this coming, not even her. I know that for a fact, because if she had, she would have made me a bunch of lists on good parenting skills and how best to deal with dad when he's in one of his moods."

"She was very organized," Edgar said proudly. _She must have had a bottomless handbag because there was stuff in there for every situation: Band-Aids, tissues, Blistex, sunscreen, tweezers…man, the list could go on and on._

"She had to be. She had three sons, all within five years of each other." Sig shook his head at the wonderment of mom's many talents. "But," he said, turning back around and sitting on the windowsill bench, "She never intended to leave us before we had a chance to grow up and be on our own. I'm sure she wanted to be here to see us become men…good men…and she would have done anything to guide us in the right direction for the rest of our lives." _I feel cheated. Cheated by God or fate or just bad luck, I don't know, but cheated is how I feel; cheated because my mom is gone when we should have had her with us for another 40 or 50 years. And the whole God damn situation pisses me the fuck off! I just don't know who to be mad at. _

"Maybe she's still guiding us, in a way," Edgar said, his young voice coming off lofty and wistful. _I believe with all my heart she is_.

_A broken wind chime. A fallen sweater. A reminder call from the dentist. A well-timed dream. Maybe, but it's not the same_. Sig leaned his shoulder against the window frame, "If she were here, she'd give me a hug and tell me in her gentle but firm way to stop complaining and thinking only of myself." Softening his eyes, he looked at the young teenager huddled up in his bed and hugging his knees to his chest. "She'd remind me that, as the oldest, I have certain responsibilities that I need to accept and live up to. I just never expected those responsibilities would come with handing out groundings or spankings…or any kind of discipline, for that matter…even scoldings or lectures. And I'm really, really struggling with this new responsibility."

Edgar stared back at his brother, still missing the point of Sig's revelations and feeling guilty. "I'm sorry you had to hand out so many. That's my fau…"

"DON'T," Sig interrupted, standing up and walking back over to the bed. He sat down next to Edgar, facing him and tenderly lifted Edgar's chin off his knee with a fingertip. Cupping his brother's face in his palm, Sig tried to repair the damage he caused from exposing too much of his own adult problems to a young, sensitive kid. _I'm just whining about my own life. Norman would tell me to knock it the fuck off. Edgar, on the other hand, takes it to heart and blames himself for all my troubles. Time to turn the ship around; if I need to talk to someone about some of this, it will have to wait until I have the right little brother in front of me_.

"Edgar, do NOT apologize for being a normal kid who made a few costly mistakes. We've been down that road and back already. I simply want you to have a normal life, as normal as it can be right now, so please don't start thinking you have to be perfect. Just be a kid…a SAFE, careful kid…but a kid," Sig forced a smile, his jaw hurting from the motion. _Those aspirins can kick in anytime now_. He looked up at Edgar's forehead and carded the bangs out of his eyes, "Your oldest brother is just having a mini-meltdown this morning…well, almost afternoon…but I'm OK."

"Meltdown?" Edgar asked, instantly concerned, "Why? What's wrong, Sig?"

_I have a lot on my mind, most of which I'm not going to share with you because you're too young to be burdened with it. There is a bit I will share, though._ "Well, for one, I'm worried about you," Sig admitted freely.

"Don't worry," Edgar said quietly.

"Impossible request, kid," Sig shrugged, "Are you…OK?" The three word question had layers upon layers of meaning.

"Yeah," Edgar answered, "I'm fine."

"I'm still freaked out about last night," Sig spoke strongly, honestly sharing how he was feeling and hoping to set the same example for Edgar, "You?"

Edgar paused. _Hell, yeah, I'm still freaked out about last night. I played cards with a bunch of thugs and gangsters and almost got shot in the chest. I watched two guys kill each other and die right in front of my eyes, inches from me. I can still smell the blood. For that matter, I'm still freaked out about getting beat up last weekend. I can still feel their rough hands holding me down and hurting me, the smell of beer, pot and sweat all around me. The renewed soreness in my hands is a good reminder of what those hands did to me. And I have no mom to curl up with and make it all better. No soft female voice and gentle touch on my cheek to make the bad dreams go away. So am I still freaked out?_

"I'm fine," Edgar merely nodded once, a firm tilt of his head to the floor and keeping his eyes locked on Sig's face, scanning for even a hint of the reviled 'pity look.'

Shrewdly, Sig kept his expression impassive. He kept all the pity inside and hidden from view -_ I know you're not. You're just a kid – a trusting, naïve, tender-hearted kid who can be tough as nails one minute and need his mother the next minute. And Norman and I are the closest things you have to still having her…just like you're the closest thing for me. So PLEASE, if you're freaked out, talk to me about it…maybe not now…but soon. _

"Hurting?" Sig asked, refusing to dance around the next issue.

"Some," Edgar spoke candidly, "My hands are hurting again today."

"Thank you for telling me that. _I mean that._ Those are the things I want to know about," Sig said appreciatively as he stood up from the bed. "But you know I was asking about the welfare of other parts of your person…and with good reason. I'm not trying to pry or make you uncomfortable by asking." _I hate to make you sit in a car for hours on end if you're really suffering. I'm feeling guilty enough already about spanking you, I'm not looking to make it worse for either of us_.

"I know." _You've made it crystal clear that your concerns extended to my ENTIRE wellbeing this summer_. Edgar closed his eyes and shrugged, "A little sore."

"Do you think you could handle going on a few errands?" Sig probed, "Please be honest with me because, if not, the errands can always wait until tomorrow."

"I'm fine," Edgar said, his eyes flying opening, "Where we going?" _I'm kinda grateful to be getting out of the house for a while. And I don't mind going with you. I really don't want to be alone today._

Sig spun around and walked over to Edgar's dresser. He opened several drawers, selecting a fresh pair of boxers, a clean soft t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting, satiny workout pants that once belonged to Norman.

"We've got a couple of stops to make. The bank would be the first. Then I thought we could surprise Norm with Taco Bell," Sig folded the selected clothes over his forearm and went investigating for a pair of matching socks.

"We're going to the hardware store?" Edgar asked excitedly, slipping out of bed in only his boxers and ribbed undershirt. He had long past the point of being embarrassed to be in front of his oldest brother in only his underwear. _Norman walks around in his underwear so I guess this is what guys do. And, the big blond Viking has given me a bath when I couldn't do it myself. Now that's love. That had to have been embarrassing for him, too, but he loved me enough to do it…like a lot of personal things he does because he loves me._

"Yep," Sig mentioned as he dug through Edgar's sock drawer, "You really need some new socks. Some of these have holes in them and others no longer have a mate." Finally discovering a hole-free, matching pair, Sig turned back around and handed the clothes off to his little brother.

"Where else are we going?" Edgar asked as he grasped the thoughtfully selected items with his fingertips and walked over to the closet in his room.

"Nick's house. I need to drop something off. Edgar…" Sig said hesitantly.

The change of tone in Sig's voice caused Edgar to twist around and look at him.

"Matt's asking for his game thingy back," Sig said softly, bordering on apologetic. On bated breath, he waited for the predictable disappointed reaction.

"OK," Edgar only shrugged, masking his disappointment with his best poker face. _Maybe someday I'll make enough money to buy one of my own_. "I'll unhook it."

"I got it," Sig turned around and hid a sigh of relief, straightening out the blanket on the bed as a plausible and practical excuse for looking away, "Just get dressed, OK? After Nick's, we need to run to the store and get some things." He began recalling his mental to-do list, "I want to make lasagna tonight. And maybe a cake. And, while we're out, maybe we can get your hair cut, too."

Edgar inwardly blanched at the idea of a haircut. His older brothers were often harping on him to get his beloved, shaggy locks cut, neither one of them understanding that musicians, especially heavy metal guitar players, wore their hair long. _It's the style I like. I'm not into the Miami Vice look like Sig or the Military look like Norman. Maybe Sig does really think I'm a hood and is gonna make me get my hair cut short. _

To Edgar's secret delight, Sig re-thought his plans out loud as he made his way behind their parent's bedroom TV, still temporarily being housed in Edgar's room from last weekend. "Maybe not. The storm's supposed to get really bad as the day goes on. I want to get home before the bridge floods out. We'll see how much time we have left and how bad the roads are."

With Sig's undivided attention focused on unhooking the Atari, a system and set-up the eldest brother knew absolutely nothing about, Edgar shimmed over to his closet and started undressing. He took off his old t-shirt and tossed in onto the floor, "How bad is the storm gonna get?" Edgar asked, a new worry created by Sig's pondering. _What about Norman? He doesn't get finished at work until 7:00. Will he be OK to get home by himself?_

"Pretty bad, they say," Sig grumbled, "How the hell….?"

Edgar glanced over and watched his oldest brother struggle with finding the right wire.

"The blue one," the young teen offered.

"Oh," Sig muttered, staring at the strange configuration, "Who the hell invented this thing, NASA?"

Edgar stifled a laugh, turning back around and slipping off his old boxers as quickly as possible. Shielded behind his dresser and, with Sig hidden behind the TV, Edgar figured he had enough time and privacy to get completely changed.

As Sig gathered up the electronic system, along with its games, controllers and cords, Edgar managed to get himself dressed. The simple skill of dressing was still hampered by his injured hands and the restriction of the tightly wound gauze. _Norman likes to wrap my hands pretty darn tight, thinking somehow that helps, but it only makes it worse_. Edgar managed to successfully get dressed, although it took him longer than usual. Forgetfully, he left his dirty clothes on the floor.

"Do you have a bag to put this stuff in?" Sig asked as he laid the game system on the bed, "I doubt Matt would appreciate his toy getting ruined by the rain. I'm assuming these things aren't waterproof."

Edgar leaned over and grabbed his empty baseball bag off the closet floor. He carried the bag and his socks over to the bed, setting them down. "No, it's definitely not waterproof, unlike you and me."

"Returning this isn't a punishment," Sig said out of the blue, watching Edgar sit down carefully on the freshly made bed. Taking the socks in his hand, and without being asked, Sig knelt down and put them on Edgar's feet. "We wouldn't be taking it back if it wasn't for Matt asking for it," he added quietly, glancing up at Edgar over his eyelashes. "I wish I could afford to buy you your own."

_Don't do that, Sig…please. You work hard enough. Don't feel bad about not having money for high-priced toys I don't need._ "Sig," Edgar spoke softly, convincingly "I don't need one."

"I don't think anyone in the world NEEDS one," Sig grumbled, crawling over to Edgar's sneakers and bringing them back with him. He shoved Edgar's foot inside the left sneaker, then the right and started lacing them up, "But I'm sure you'd like to have one."

"It's pretty cool," Edgar glanced over at the games, realizing how much he was going to miss Pitfall Harry and his diamond rings and hungry alligators, "But I have lots of cool things."

Finished with the lacing of Edgar's sneakers, Sig stood up, pulling Edgar up with him and setting him on his feet.

"Like what?" the oldest brother took a step back and asked with his hands on his hips, Jolly Green Giant style. With Edgar standing in front of him, Sig had to wonder if the kid grew an inch overnight. _I swear he's getting taller by the minute._

The young kid craved nothing more than to wrap his arms around his big brother's midsection and give Sig the hug mom would have provided if she'd been there. Edgar yearned to say, _I have two very cool big brothers that love me very much and that's all I really need, not some stupid game system. I don't need you to buy my love like Nick does with Matt because he feels sorry for not spending time with him_. After a moment of contemplation, he did and said neither; _sounds too 'girly' and I'm guessing Sig is sick of me hanging on him by now_. So, instead, he turned his back to his brother and started shuffling Matt's game system and cartridges into oversized bat bag. "I have my guitar. I'd rather have that then some stupid video game."

"I miss hearing you play," Sig said sadly, guiding his eyes slowly up and down the back of his little brother's head. The sadness he felt went beyond feeling sorry for the current state of Edgar's battered hands. Intuitively, he sensed Edgar was holding back from saying and doing what he really wanted to. _Is he trying to protect my feelings? Are we still going to pretend to be tough around each other? Is this how it's gonna be no matter what I say or do? _

"I thought it annoyed you," Edgar bantered, zipping up the bag with all its expensive, technological contents.

With a contrived, light-hearted chuckle to disguise the hurt, Sig picked up Edgar's dirty clothes off the floor and bantered back, "Only when I have a headache." He left the room, depositing the clothes into the hamper in the hallway, talking to himself the whole time: _Come on, Edgar…we've come so far and gotten so close…don't start shutting down now that the crisis is over. You're reminding me too much of Norman right now and I don't like it._

Edgar almost bumped into Sig as he was coming back into the room.

"I'm gonna brush my teeth," the young teen muttered.

Sig stepped out of his way, "You need help?"

"No," Edgar called back, "Although Norman seems to think so. He brushed my teeth for me last night AND this morning."

Listening to the water start running through the pipes, Sig hollered out the door, "It's his way of showing you he cares. Please tell me you didn't argue with him."

His words distorted by the toothbrush, Edgar yelled back, "M' ot oopid. No 'ody argues wid 'Orman."

"I do," Sig smiled, "All the time."

"You bigger dan 'em," Edgar said before spitting out the toothpaste.

_For how much longer? Norman still has one growth spurt left in him, I know it_. Sig picked up the bat bag and slung it over his shoulder. The black plastic cartridges and controllers rattled in the bag, knocking against each other.

Shutting off the lights in Edgar's room, Sig stopped at the bathroom door. Spotting Edgar combing his long hair back, he couldn't help but remark, "You know, if you got it cut…"

Edgar conveniently but slowly shut the door in Sig's face, adding respectfully, "I gotta pee."

_Yeah right._ "I'll be downstairs waiting. Make sure you wash your hands."

"Ha Ha!" Edgar called sarcastically, "You know I can't."

"OK, that's gross," Sig admitted, walking down the steps, "I didn't even think about that."

* * *

Edgar silently pouted in the front seat of the Trans Am. His oldest brother had insisted he wear his rain slicker to keep his hands dry. Feeling 'overly mothered' by an overly protective brother, Edgar pondered which 'parent' he was going to get when. _The tenderness of my backside against the leather bucket seat and the other stern punishments I got this morning screams 'father' but being forced to wear my raincoat like a five year old, even in the car, says 'all mom.'_

Being in enough trouble already, the young teen wisely kept his pouting to the bare minimum, simply crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the pelting rain blasting against the narrow windshield of the sports car. It didn't help his mood that he immediately noticed his motor bike was no longer in the garage when the boys left the house. He could only assume it was either still strapped to the back of Norman's truck or it had been dropped off at the family storage unit. _Wow, Sig REALLY doesn't trust me anymore. Otherwise he would have told me not to ride it and left it in the garage, trusting that I'd obey him. _

The only thing that stopped Edgar's brooding was Sig distractedly but consistently rubbing at his jaw while he was driving.

On the fifth rub, Edgar knew something was up. "Your jaw hurting you or something? Did Norman clock you when you guys were in the basement last night?"

Sig had to laugh at that. "No," he said with a smile, despite the pain.

"Then what's up?" Edgar turned and studied his brother's profile more closely, looking for an answer, "I only do that when I'm really scared or nervous. Are you nervous about the rain?"

_Ugh! Promises, promises…honesty is for the birds, sometimes_. "No, although the roads are sloppy and the Trans isn't exactly known for handling well in the rain," Sig admitted as he navigated the ponding water and drove slower than usual. His vision was extremely restricted by the rain and the windshield wipers were struggling to keep up. The roads were strangely empty, as if other, smarter people knew to just stay home.

"What is it, then?" Edgar asked, the pitch in his voice rising with instant concern.

"My wisdom teeth are coming in," Sig said casually.

"And it hurts?"

"Yeah, buddy," Sig said softly, "It hurts."

"Oh," Edgar slunk in his seat, immediately regretting giving his brother a hard time this morning about wearing the protective raincoat. _Shoot, I've given him a hard time over the last twenty four hours…and he's been in pain. Stupid, selfish me! _

The remainder of the drive to the bank was quiet, just the sounds of the rain pounding on the windshield and the over-worked windshield wipers breaking the silence.

"Coming with me?" Sig asked as he pulled the car into the bank parking lot, put the car in park and shut off the engine.

"Sure," Edgar answered.

A quick run through the rain and the boys found themselves waiting in a short line for the next bank teller. When it was their turn, Edgar noticed the fleeting look of worry on Sig's face when the middle aged blond teller provided him with his account balance before depositing his paycheck. Swiftly hiding his financial concerns from Edgar, Sig still withdrew two hundred dollars in cash, handed to him in a white envelope by the pleasant bank employee. The oldest brother shoved the money in his back pocket, postponing transferring the cash to his leather wallet once he got back to the car.

Highly insulted, Edgar icily refused the Cream Soda-flavored Dum-Dum lollipop the bank teller offered him and the boys left to the next destination.

Taco Bell was a hop, skip and jump down the road from the bank. Yet, it took twice as long to arrive there because of the dismal driving conditions.

As they were pulling into Taco Bell's parking lot, Sig caught Edgar shifting uncomfortably in the front seat out of the corner of his eye. Because of the severity of the weather and driving conditions, Sig made his youngest brother sit up front, seatbelt securely fastened around his waist. He would have liked to let Edgar lie down in the back seat but he couldn't take the risk in case of an accident.

Before he could stop himself for apologizing, the word slipped past the oldest brother's lips. "Sorry," he said quietly.

"For what?" Edgar looked over towards the driver's seat.

"That you can't rest in the backseat." _On your stomach, which would be a hell of a lot more comfortable for you in your present state_.

"I'm fine," Edgar said quickly, looking away and out the passenger side window towards the yellow and orange neon Taco Bell sign.

Sig knew he wasn't. _No, you're not. But there's no sense in arguing about it. There's nothing I can do to ease the discomfort except get through this trip and get us both home safely_.

Another quick jaunt across the parking lot and through the raindrops, the boys entered a packed fast food restaurant. It was the lunch hour and several of the nearby businesses and factories filled the small establishment with hungry workers looking for a break from their monotonous work day.

For Edgar, Taco Bell turned out to be equally as annoying as the bank. As the youngest and oldest Hansen gave their order to the pimple-faced worker, several of Edgar's old friends from school strolled into the restaurant. The young teen recognized them straightaway. He pulled up the hood of his raincoat, shielding his face and praying they didn't spot him. _Shit!_

Over the course of the second semester of 7th grade, Edgar had spiraled down with self-destruction, hanging out with the potheads and dregs of the school, while these Taco Bell eating 'friends' had ascended into the popular 'preps and jocks' crowd. Middle school boys are like sharks, picking up on the scent of fresh wounds and circling in for the kill. After Edgar's mother passed away, he metaphorically bled daily and the sharks couldn't resist the smell of blood.

At the very top of the middle school totem pole, these former friends had teased Edgar every chance they could get for the second half of the school year. The same guys that hung out with him after soccer practice in autumn, and thought he was a cool kid then, had spent the spring calling him 'boat trash' and 'loser' in the café, on the bus and in the locker room during gym class. They pushed him around in the hallways or ignored him, confirming to him how far he had fallen in the rank and order of middle school life.

At the time, the youngest Hansen was too lost and depressed to care and he never once defended himself or tried to climb back up the ladder. Nowadays, Edgar knew he'd have to face these guys at some point. He had just hoped it would be at the beginning of his 8th grade school year, not in the middle of Taco Bell with his big brother watching and his hands wrapped like a mummy.

"Hey," Sig easily looked over his little brother hoodie, still over a head taller than him. "Isn't that Jeremy and Aidan? Weren't they on your soccer team?" He asked cheerfully as he pulled out his wallet from his back jeans pocket, paying the cashier for the impending take-out food.

"Ammm," Edgar mumbled something that sounded like English, shimming himself between Sig and the counter and facing the cashier with a look of desperation. "Is the food almost ready?" he asked the pimply Taco Bell worker, "We're kinda in a rush."

"Why don't you go over and say 'hi?' You haven't seen them all summer," Sig was obviously ignorant of Edgar's lowly place on the totem pole and his littlest brother's current attempts to remain inconspicuous. The eldest brother surveyed the young boys sitting down in a window seat booth, waiting for their parents to come inside, with casual interest. The teenage boys seemed so happy and carefree, pushing and elbowing each other and laughing at their own foolishness. _Edgar should be with them, having fun like that and just being with his friends._

"Food's ready," Edgar said in haste, picking up the two white bags placed on the counter by the rushed and annoyed worker. The heavy bags hurt his hands but Edgar didn't care at the moment. He just needed to get out of there. "Time to go," he muttered as he turned to leave.

"Don't you want to see your friends?" Sig asked, completely confused as to why they were running out of Taco Bell. He watched Edgar rush out of the establishment, frozen for a moment by his brother's strange behavior.

"No," Edgar simply called back, trying to get out of the restaurant in a hurry before Sig blew his cover.

The youngest Hansen was halfway out the glass door when Sig caught up with him.

"What gives?" Sig asked, standing outside under the overhang of the restaurant's roof.

"Nothing," the boy hidden under his hoodie answered, looking behind him to see if his classmates were staring at him from inside and beyond the large glass windows.

_Well, something's up. What the hell just happened? And why do you look so suspicious? _ "Let me take these," Sig said firmly, gently taking the heavy bags from Edgar's hands.

As soon as the bags were turned over to his brother, Edgar took off for the car, again leaving Sig in the dust. This time, both boys ran back to the car, still getting soaked in the process.

Climbing in their respective sides, Sig waited for Edgar to get buckled in before setting the food on his lap. Quietly, he sat still in the driver's seat and glared at his little brother. Well, actually, he glared at a head shielded underneath a rain-covered hoodie.

When Sig didn't start the car right away, Edgar slunk down in his seat, dreading the expected questions. "Smells good," the kid nodded towards the plastic bags on his lap, trying to redirect a conversation that hadn't started yet.

_Nice try_. "Care to tell me what that was all about?" Sig asked flatly, listening to the rain pick up in intensity.

"I want to get the food to Norman before it gets cold," Edgar stared straight ahead, trying to sound thoughtful and jolly, "He's gonna be totally surprised. He loves Mexican."

"Is that all?" Sig queried with a raise eyebrow, emphasizing the disbelief in his voice.

Edgar didn't answer, remaining silent and still like a deer hunter in the early morning fog. _I can't lie. But I don't feel like going into it either_.

Giving the kid a few heartbeats to answer and getting nothing, Sig threw his hands up and started the car. It wasn't the first time today Edgar was clearly holding back from him and Sig was beginning to get frustrated.

A block down the road, Sig had chewed over his frustrations long enough. Looking straight ahead, he said with heavy emotion, "I love you, Edgar. There's nothing you can't tell me. If something's bothering you, I wish you'd talk about it. You don't have to go through things alone anymore."

The honest and open admission hit Edgar hard. Still, being a 'middle school loser' is pretty much the last thing you want to share with the person you look up to more than anyone else in the world. "I'm fine, Sig."

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," Sig repeated his brother's words with distain, "That's all you can say to me today." Letting out a big sigh of frustration, he added "Particularly when you don't want to tell me what's really going on in that head of yours. And, although I'm not as brilliant as our scholarly and logical brother, I'm not a moron, either."

Whipping his hood off his head, the young teen turned his head sharply and locked eyes with Sig's blue ones. "I don't think that!" Edgar spoke defensively, "You're one of the smartest people I know."

"Then you know I'm not actually buying into THE 'I'm fine' answers," Sig gripped the steering wheel in his hands, squeezing until his knuckles turned white. He missed the feeling of the heavy gold ring that used to rub against the leather wheel as he drove, "You know, not telling me when something's wrong doesn't help you in regaining my trust."

"I just…" Edgar started and then stopped.

Sig waited…patiently.

"It's just…" the kid struggled, finally giving up, "Can we talk about it later? I don't really feel like talking about anything right now."

_Then, when, Edgar? When are you gonna talk about it? And what 'its?" What just happened in Taco Bell? What happened to you at the Shack? What happened to you when mom died? Patience…Patience, along with honesty, is for the birds, too._ "Alright, maybe tonight or this weekend?" Sig was willing to settle for soon as opposed to now.

"OK," Edgar mumbled. _Good, maybe he'll forget by then._

"OK," Sig said with a firm nod. _I'm holding you to that._

* * *

With a heart as heavy as his largest dumbbell, Norman had dropped Edgar's bike off at the storage unit that morning, securing his little brother's pride and joy safely into its metal confines before the heavy rain had started. Seeing the beloved bike, stored next to the family's dingy, fade into darkness as he closed the accordion-type door, Norman couldn't help but feel like he was betraying his youngest brother.

The feelings nagged at him all morning, along with the concern over whatever was happening at home, and the tension was starting to physically manifest itself in his broad shoulders. Rolling his neck and shoulders like a fighter before a big match, Norman thought to himself: _I know what's happening at home, I just don't want to think about it. I trust Sig so I don't know why I'm worried. He'll set the kid right and be fair about it at the same time. Still…I love them both and I hate to see either one of them going through all this again_.

All morning, Norman's worries had him distracted and tensed up, so when he spotted Sig's Trans Am pulling into the parking lot through the rain-smeared storefront window, his heart skipped a beat. When his brothers got out of the car carrying two large bags from Taco Bell, his stomach skipped in blissful anticipation.

Opening the glass door wide, Norman welcomed his brothers as they ran in from the pouring rain.

"You guys came out in THIS to bring me lunch," the middle brother spoke with surprise, "I must have the best bros in the world." Secretly, he was more excited to see them than the food.

Edgar shook off his raincoat on the welcome mat, stripping the offending garment off his body. "Hi, Norman!"

Sig dropped off the bags of food on the counter. "Nice of you to finally realize that, Norm." Looking around, he glanced back at Edgar. "We forgot the sodas." _No surprise considering we ran out of Taco Bell like the Mexican police were on our tail. _

"Sorry," Edgar muttered, bowing his head and walking to the back of the store to hang up his raincoat.

With the youngest brother out of earshot for the moment, Sig quickly looked over at Norman. "You store the bike?" he asked in a whisper.

"Of course," Norman grumbled, walking around the counter and inspecting the offerings in the large plastic bags, "You told me to."

"And you always do what you're told, right?" Sig asked, his eyebrow cocked and sly smile gracing his lips.

"Hey, I'm a good boy," Norman said, a sweet, innocent grin on his face. "Yeah, I got it there before the rain really started coming down."

"Store empty?"

"Yup, like your head, blondie"

"Ass," Sig began removing the Nachos Supremes, hard and soft tacos and hot enchiladas from the bags, setting them on the glass counter. "I'm glad you took the bike over before work, it was good idea. The weather is getting nautical. I want you to come straight home after work. The storm's expected to get real nasty tonight."

"It's Seattle, Sig…or did you forget. It rains all the time." Norman shook his head over his older brother's needless concerns. Then he hollered towards the back of the store, "EDGAR, bring paper plates back with you," he called loudly, "They're in the cabinets above the coffeepot."

"You have a coffeepot here?" Sig asked excitedly.

"Yeah," Norman smiled, pausing and torturing his brother a little, "But it doesn't work."

"Damn, I could use another cup."

"Rough morning?" Norman drily asked, glancing at his brother with a sarcastic look.

Sig flashed him his own sarcastic look and rolled his eyes before Edgar returned with the plates. He handed them over to Norman who made a quick table setting with the plastic cutlery and napkins provided by the efficient Taco Bell workers. The hardware store checkout counter doubled as a perfect picnic table for a rainy day, minus the hard, wooden benches.

"What'll we do if a customer walks in?" Edgar asked nervously.

"The place has been dead all day. Nobody's coming out in this weather." Grabbing the first thing he saw, Norman excitedly tore into one of the four enchiladas his brothers brought for him, "Geez, this beats the PB&J I packed for lunch. You guys really are the best. I mean that."

Edgar helped himself to a hard taco, unwrapping the greasy plastic and digging in. Eating food meant to be consumed without utensils worked out well for a boy with bandaged, sore hands.

"I'm gonna run to the coffee shop next door," Sig said, taking a step back from the gorging. "You guys want something to drink?"

"Root beer."

"Root beer."

"Easy enough," Sig said with a nod, "I'll be right back. Save me something,' will ya?"

"Better hurry," Norman mumbled, his mouth half-full of masticated meat and cheese hanging from his lips.

Sig laughed and left the store, checking to make sure his wallet was still in his back pocket. The oldest brother was safeguarded from the rain by the covered sidewalk of the strip mall but he felt like he was walking under a waterfall. The rain was coming down so heavily, he could barely make out the few cars in the parking lot. _We need to get home soon. I'd love to hang out with my brother but the roads will be flooding soon and my car is meant for speed and aesthetics, not driving in a monsoon_.

The minute the door to the hardware store closed, Norman looked over at Edgar and smiled, a wide, toothy grin that conveyed sympathy and encouragement. "How was the sentencing phase of the trial? Did you throw yourself on the mercy of the courts?" he asked softly. _I really want to give you a big hug right now but my hands are covered in grease and I'm not sure you'd appreciate it_.

Norman hit a nerve without even realizing it.

_Mercy…a break…getting off easy: they're all the same thing and I still can't believe I wussed out and asked for 'lean-in-see_.' "I'm fine," Edgar answered softly, chewing on his taco and trying to avoid the topic, "Sig laid down the law and made his points very clear." Giving a brief overview of the morning's events, the youngest brother reassured Norman that he had been right when they spoke in the bathroom this morning; Sig yelled a little and talked a lot, punished him fairly but didn't give him more than he could handle and showed a good deal of love and compassion throughout the entire process. Although those weren't the words Edgar used, that was the general message and Norman finally felt some of the tension in his shoulders abate.

_My oldest brother is a good guy but everyone's patience eventually wears thin…and God knows, Edgar's really been pushing it…so hearing Edgar's story is a relief_. "Your bike is safely tucked away in the storage unit," Norman stated, his eyes softening and losing his winsome smile, "I'm sorry, Edgar. Sig told me to take it there today."

"It's fine," the kid sounded defeated, bordering on depressed with the confirmation of his earlier assumption, "I won't be riding it for the rest of the summer so I guess, as long as it's safe, it doesn't matter where it is."

"Well," Norman squared up his shoulders, "I promise, when I have time, I'll stop off at the storage unit and work on it. I'll keep her in tip-top shape, start 'er up once in a while, OK?"

Edgar swallowed his taco bite and said quietly, "You don't have to do that for me."

"I want to," Norman declared, his eyebrows furrowing together and studying his youngest brother's guarded and deflated demeanor, "It's no trouble. So…other than the bike…?"

"I'm grounded," Edgar whispered.

"That adds another person in my life to the list of lonely, solitary confinement; Amanda and now you," Norman said sadly, "Man, kid, I'm feeling bad for the both of you." _And me, too. I miss my girl. It's been a LONG time since…well…it's been a long, damn time._

"Don't," Edgar said forcefully, "Not for me, anyway. I had it coming."

"Sig got through to you, then?" Norman inquired hopefully, "You finally understand what you did wasn't worth it?"

"Completely," Edgar's shoulders sagged, watching Sig coming back into the store with a cup of coffee and two bottles of root beer. _He's not wearing his ring right now…and maybe he never will. He doesn't trust me AT ALL because, if he did, he would have left the bike in the garage…so now I know I lost all his trust. And, he thinks there's something wrong with me…Is there? I understand completely…basically, I f'ed up and ruined the summer!_

"Two root beers," Sig announced, walking in and setting the bottles on the counter. Before releasing one of the two, Sig unscrewed the cap of the second bottle and pushed it over in front of Edgar.

Both of his brothers politely thanked him for the sodas and the meal, demonstrating that not all of mom's lectures went to waste. The three brothers ate quietly, too hungry to bother with small talk and lost in their own thoughts.

In reality, Norman was touched his brother thought to bring him lunch and didn't know what to say. He was also wise enough to know Sig had an ulterior motive for the visit. _He wanted me to know Edgar was OK…and so was he…although I bet if the kid wasn't around, he'd have a lot more to say to me. We haven't even begun to talk about dad and how Sig…scratch that…Sig and I…will explain Edgar's latest escapade._ The post post-spanking conversation between the two oldest brothers had become another tradition between them; a means for Sig to clear his soul and hear the needed validation he was doing the correct thing, a chance for Norman to say his peace and call it done. Unfortunately, this time, that conversation had to wait until later.

Edgar was just comforted to be with his two brothers again, Sig standing next to him on one side of the counter, Norman across from him on the other. There was no one around to make him feel uncomfortable or afraid. He didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder for Elliot and his gang to come walking through the door. All his secrets had been revealed and dealt with. The long term consequences, such as losing Sig's trust, his own freedom and mobility and the scars, bandages and nightmares would resolve themselves in time. So the youngest Hansen couldn't understand why he felt shaky and nervous inside.

Sig ate sparingly, sticking with the soft tacos and pleased enough in watching his younger brothers devour their food. It was only two short weeks ago that Norman was stuck with bland bananas and toast so it felt good for Sig to see his brother eating normally again…and enjoying it.

"Nachos?" Norman asked his older brother, sliding over the clear tray of crispy nachos covered in melted cheese and other toppings and offering to share the bounty. _I can't believe you haven't called me out on eating half of them already_.

"Nah," Sig shook his head.

"But you love nachos," Norman looked confused, perceptively tipped off to a possible problem. _Sig never refuses nachos!_

Forever the little brother and, therefore, designated family snitch, Edgar blurted out, "His wisdom teeth are hurting."

Sig paused in mid bite of his soft taco, glaring at his shaggy-haired youngest brother. _How you managed to keep your little poker playing plans a secret for close to a week, I'll never know. My dental problems aren't exactly a secret but, damn, I would have liked to tell Norman myself_.

Norman was quite familiar with wisdom teeth and all the potential trouble that came with them. He had several friends with older siblings who experienced the massive pain of having them become impacted and removed. "How long have you been in pain?" he asked, ready to jump in and diagnose the situation.

"A couple of weeks, Norm," Sig swallowed and groaned, brushing off the concerned look on Norman's face, "It's nothing."

_What would mom ask?_ "Did you tell Dr. Krupp?" Norman inquired.

"Yes," Sig said disgustedly, feeling an interrogation coming on. _Christ, there's nothing like getting interrogated by your little brother, especially when he's smarter than you._

"Well," Norman wiped his hands with an available napkin, "What did he say?"

"He recommended an oral surgeon," Sig answered casually,

The second Sig mentioned 'surgeon,' Edgar started choking. Both older brothers dropped their food to the counter, crowding around Edgar and patting him on the back. Tears were running down the kid's face as he managed to gag down his food and take a sip of the root beer Sig was shoving in his direction.

When he recovered, Edgar croaked, "Sur…ge..on? Like…in surgery?" The automatic tears from choking were running down his face as he gasped for air.

"No, not that kind of surgery," Sig said softly, stroking Edgar's back and assuring himself he didn't have to perform the Heimlich maneuver. The tall blond didn't know if he should laugh or cry; a common problem for him this summer when it came to his little brothers and their misplaced insecurities.

"Then what?" Edgar asked, swallowing down his soda and turning towards his oldest brother.

"Just a special kind of dentist," Sig placed a soft hand to the back of Edgar's head, feeling the silkiness of his brother's fine hair. Reassuringly, he smiled and removed his hand, "And I'm not even sure I need one. I'm going to talk to the guy Wednesday night and find out. So, let's not worry about it until we know for sure. The pain I'm in is most likely from my teeth shifting around to make room for the new ones."

Edgar looked up into Sig's blue eyes and found a trusting face. He nodded, blindly appeased, and relying on his oldest brother to always tell him the truth about what was going to happen.

Norman's eyes narrowed and he turned away, pretending to focus his thoughts on cleaning up from lunch. As he shoved the dirty plates and wrappers in the bags, he bit the inside of his lip. _Bullshit! Naive, trusting Edgar will believe whatever comes out of Sig's mouth. I bet if Sig told our kid brother cows could fly, Edgar would believe him. __**I'm**__ not so gullible. Dr. Krupp wouldn't have recommended a specialist if he didn't think Sig needed one. My older brother's in pain…and that's a hell of a lot harder for me to deal with than Edgar's sufferings._

_Why is that? Because I've come to expect Sig to be some kind of rock for our family and now my confidence is shaken? Maybe my self-confidence is what's really shaking. If Sig goes down for a few days, all I have to do is look to the guy in the mirror to handle everything. I just hope that guy (you know, the handsome one with the big muscles) staring back at me is ready to take over as Relief Captain to the Relief Captain_. The muscles in Norman's neck and shoulders went from relaxed back to tense and constricted.

Sig gave Edgar one last, reassuring smile, "We have to go. We have a few more stops to make."

"Like where?" Norman asked idly, throwing the trash into the trash can behind the counter and wiping down the glass with a fresh paper towel.

"Nick's and then the grocery store. Do you need anything?" Sig asked.

_Nick's? Why?_ "Razors."

"Triple blade?"

"Yup." _I'm not crazy about that guy…too full of himself._

"Anything else?"

"Nope." _What are you going to Nick's house for?_

"I'm making lasagna tonight."

"Wow," Norman looked up from wiping, "Mexican for lunch and Italian for dinner. What's for breakfast?"

"French toast," Edgar answered, a small glimmer of hope in his green eyes.

"Norman will have to make it," Sig said factually, "I have to work this weekend."

The middle brother cocked his head, "Docks open again?"

"Yup," Sig answered, turning to back to Edgar, "Go get your coat."

_Stupid rain slicker_. "Yes, sir," Edgar said dutifully, slinking away to the back of the store.

When Edgar was again out of hearing range, Norman shook his head, "You know, I'll never get used to hearing him say that to you. It's still weird, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Sig sounded wistful, "But at least one of my little brothers shows me some respect." He glanced at Norman out of the corner of his eye, a feigned accusatory look crossing his face.

"HA!" Norman huffed, "Keep dreaming."

"Seriously," Sig said sternly, facing Norman and staring him down, "Straight home after work. I'm not joking around. And don't even attempt the bridge if it's bad. That thing floods out quicker than you think."

"Dude, I know how to drive in the rain."

"NORMAN," Sig whipped out his authoritative tone with surprising skill, "I…mean…it!"

Edgar, who was approaching the front of the store, jumped involuntarily at his oldest brother's sternest voice. He had overheard the last part of the conversation where Sig admonished their brother about driving home in the storm and the concern expressed by the oldest brother only reinforced Edgar's own anxiety about Norman's safety later that evening.

"Relax, will ya?" Norman gripped, conceding defeat, "I'll be careful."

Sig nodded, satisfied with the answer. He waited for Edgar to put on his coat and then gestured to the front door with a tilt of his head.

Surprisingly, Edgar proceeded in the opposite direction, away from the door and walking behind the counter. Wordlessly, he slipped his arms around Norman's midsection, resting his chin on his shoulder and gave his older brother a brief but sweet squeeze.

"Ah, kid," Norman leaned down, facing away from Sig and the front door and whispered in Edgar's ear, "Now you're worried about me, too?" He felt Edgar shrug slightly and squeezed him back. "No worries. I wouldn't miss lasagna for the world." Despite the fact that Sig was watching, Norman gave Edgar a quick nuzzle with his nose to the kid's hair.

Sig was amused as he watched this warm, intimate interaction from the doorway. Something as simple as a hug goodbye would have never happened a year ago. Now, the hugs were being handed out frequently and it gave the oldest brother a small sense of confidence and satisfaction. _Maybe the promises I've made and the examples I've set are changing the course of our family for the better. OK, so it's not for the birds after all. _

"GO," Norman peeled his little brother off, "Sig hates waiting."

"Love you," Edgar muttered, low enough for Norman to hear. He glanced up at the handsome face and smiled for an instant, waiting.

"Love you, too," Norman answered quietly. He purposefully refused to glance over at the doorway and see what could only be described as a smug look on his oldest brother's face. _Yeah, yeah…you set the example…but you don't have to rub it in_.

Edgar walked back around the counter and headed towards the front door. Sig held it open for him, flipping up Edgar's hoodie as the kid walked by.

"See ya, bro," Sig said, one last look at his best friend. He wished he had the knack for expressing himself with one complete and perfect look, for if he had, he would have conveyed gratitude and love with the meaningless goodbye. Instead, he just tipped his head up in a manly fashion.

"Later," Norman called back, tipping his chin up and mimicking his brother. He watched his brothers run out into the storm, hop in the Trans Am and take off. The hardware store, which had been empty all day, suddenly got very lonely.

Deciding on the grocery store first, Sig and Edgar made shopping as much fun as possible. The oldest brother allowed Edgar to select Norman's razors, instructing him on the kind the middle brother preferred. It was obvious that Edgar would choose the same kind for himself one day, simply based on the fact that Norman liked them first.

* * *

All the ingredients for dinner, groceries for the week and some other necessities packed in soggy brown paper bags in the trunk, the two of three Hansen brothers proceeded to their last stop. Well, Edgar hoped it was their last stop and not the stop they made right before the barber shop.

As Sig pulled up to the Mavar's house, he noticed Nick's car in the driveway. It was only 3:00 in the afternoon, their day trip taking longer than normal because of the storm, but Sig was surprised Nick was already home from work.

"Nick's here," Edgar mumbled, reading Sig's mind, "Shouldn't he be at work?"

"Guess we'll find out," Sig shrugged, turning around and grabbing the baseball bag out of the backseat.

"Am I allowed in?" Edgar asked, his eyes wide.

"Of course," Sig said, "Why wouldn't you be?"

"I'm grounded," Edgar stated as a reminder to the guy that grounded him in the first place.

"You go where I go," Sig smiled, "And I'm going in the house. Come on, Edgar. You can still see your friend, grounded or not." The oldest brother opened the car door and made another dash through the rain, baseball bag slung over his shoulder.

Edgar followed Sig, mentally counting how many times the two of them had gotten wet, only to dry off and get wet again.

Standing on the porch, safe from the rain, Sig rang the doorbell. In the few seconds they waited for someone to answer, he splashed his little brother's face with raindrops he collected in his palm from the porch roof and laughed when Edgar scowled at him. The interaction was an 'I'll always be your big brother first, regardless of the fact that you were face down over my knee this morning' reminder.

Finally, the front door opened. Nick broadly smiled, glad to see the friendly faces on his porch. "Hey," he said with an upbeat tone, "Matt said you might be stopping by. Come in, come in." Opening the screen door, Sig ushered Edgar in and followed.

Noting Nick was wearing black dress slacks, a dark green button down shirt and a silk striped tie, Sig wondered for the first time where Nick was working this summer. "You're home early," the oldest Hansen stated the obvious, standing on the welcome mat and feeling a little sheepish for coming into the house soaking wet.

"Yeah," Nick started, stopping when he noticed Edgar in his rain coat. "Here, let me get that," and offered to take Edgar's coat.

Edgar slid off his coat and Nick hung it up on the coat rack by the door, "Yeah, the law office I'm working at lost power around 2:00 so they sent everyone home about twenty minutes ago."

"Law office?" Sig asked, a little impressed and a little more envious than he cared to admit.

"I'm studying to be a lawyer," Nick seemed confused, "Didn't you know that?"

"No," Sig muttered, slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah, I'm graduating this spring pre-law and, if all goes well with my LSATs and applications, I'm off to law school the following fall," Nick said with a smile and wishful roll of his liquid brown eyes, "Let's just say I've come a long way from high school. Back then, the only law I thought I'd see was from the back seat of a police cruiser."

Sig forced a smile, thinking the long way he'd come from high school was to a warehouse at the docks. "Here," he handed over the baseball bag to Nick, "Matt's Atari. He asked for it back."

"He's upstairs in his room," Nick turned to Edgar, "You want to take this up to him? I'm sure he'll be happy to see you and it."

"OK," Edgar said flatly, allowing Nick to sling the bag over his shoulder. Pausing, he looked over at Sig, "Is that OK?"

"Sure," Sig nodded, "But only for a few minutes. We have groceries melting in the back of the car."

"Alright," Edgar nodded that he understood, heading up the steps and off to Matt's room.

Sig watched him go, the feeling that Edgar had a lot on his mind still bothering the oldest brother.

"How is he?" Nick asked, following the direction of Sig's concerned eyes and waiting to hear Matt's bedroom door open and close.

Sig looked over at Nick and realized the guy was practically reading his mind. "Not good," he admitted, "Did you see the newspaper this morning?"

"OH HELL YEAH," Nick said, his mouth gapping open, "I always knew Elliot would go out like that but actually seeing it with my own eyes was…I don't know…weird and vindicating at the same time."

"You wanna talk about seeing it with your own eyes?" Sig cynically asked.

"Huh?"

Shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, the tall blonde explained the last few days at the Hansen household to his new friend and confidante. During the course of the explanation, Nick invited Sig into the kitchen and offered him a beer. Sig sat down at the kitchen table, politely refusing the beer this time, and told Nick about the secret poker game, the gangsters from out of town and Edgar's front row seat to last night's double murder.

* * *

At the same time, a similar conversation to the one in the kitchen was occurring in Matt's bedroom.

"Blood everywhere, dude," Edgar said like he was impressed instead of horrified.

"No way," Matt exclaimed, "Did it freak you out?"

"Naw," Edgar lied through his teeth, "I just never realized how much blood people have inside them."

"Did you have to talk to the cops?"

"No," Edgar smiled gratefully, "I got lucky."

"Not with Sig, I'll bet," Matt said knowingly.

Edgar visibly shuddered, "Sig was madder than hell."

Matt took the opportunity to act superior, putting on his best airs. It wasn't often that Edgar was the one to commit a stupid and wild act that landed him in hot water. Growing up together, that honor almost always belonged to Matt and the dark-haired boy relished the role reversal for a change. "Well, that was a pretty dumbass thing to do, Ed. What the hell were you thinking going back to that place after last weekend? They beat the shit out of you last time and this time you almost got shot!"

_Way to rub it in, Matt! Don't remind me! _ Edgar glowered at his friend, aggravated he was the one on the receiving end of the lecture this time. _I only told you all of this because I thought you'd be impressed. Man, did that backfire!_ More times than Edgar could count, he was the one lecturing Matt on the pitfalls of stupidity. "It's complicated, OK?" the youngest Hansen said defensively, raising his voice.

Matt smirked. _Sure it is; probably had something to do with impressing a girl_. "You in trouble?"

"What do you think, jerkoff?" Edgar grumbled, throwing up his injured hands.

Matt shot him a look, a warning that Edgar needed to back off.

Edgar dropped his aggressive stance, lowering his hands and bowing his head. "I'm grounded forever," he said dejectedly. _That's all you need to know_.

Edgar's miserable tone tugged at Matt's chest, causing him to feel guilty for poking at an already sore spot, and he struggled to make amends, "You know, you could have kept the Atari a while longer," he said, gesturing to the game system lying on the floor, "If I'd known you were stuck at home, I wouldn't have asked for it back so soon. I just thought your hands would be OK by now."

"They should have been," a gloomy look appeared on Edgar's face as he leaned back against Matt's bedroom wall. "But the game system was a lot of fun. It really helped take my mind off things. Thanks for letting me borrow it."

"Any time," Matt quipped, "You're my buddy, right?"

"Yup," Edgar said with a smile.

* * *

Back in the kitchen, Nick sat down heavily, swigging his beer and aghast that someone his own little brother's age would be a witness such violence and destruction, particularly after the abuse the same young man in question suffered just a short week prior. And, on top of it, the thought that Edgar had a gun pointed at his chest sent a cold chill up Nick's spine. _I know…I knew Elliot…and he wouldn't have blinked twice before killing a thirteen year old kid. I wonder if Edgar knows how lucky he got last night. Does Sig?_

"Holy shit," was all Nick could say. He unloosened the tie around his neck, letting it droop over his neck.

"Yeah," Sig bobbed his head in agreement, "Holy shit is right."

"It was the ring, wasn't it," Nick vividly remembered how upset Edgar had been the night they brought him home from the hospital and how brokenly he spoke about the ring being irreplaceable. "He went back for your ring."

Sig could only nod and pull at the hem of his tight undershirt.

"Crazy kid," Nick muttered, "He must have been…I don't know…out of his mind to go back there. He's gotta be busted up inside after almost getting shot. Elliot's a bastard that deserves to rot in hell. He would have killed your brother if he had gotten the chance. You know that, right?"

_I sure as hell do…and I don't want to think about it anymore._ Suddenly remembering what he came for, Sig pulled out his wallet and laid a wad of cash on the table. "The money I owe you," he explained, unable to look Nick in the eye for a brief second. Solemnly, he slid the money over to Nick, taking his hand off the cash. "I can never thank you enough for everything you did for Edgar that night."

"Sig," Nick's voice changed so softly, the oldest brother had to look up. "I don't want this," he said, ready to push the money back across the table.

"No," Sig said firmly, adamantly looking Nick straight in the face, "I promised to pay you back and that's what I'm doing. Please, dude, don't argue with me about it."

Truly, Nick wanted to quarrel over the money but something about the prideful expression on Sig's face made him falter. To refuse the money would be an affront to Sig's 'manhood' as well as his honor and Nick wasn't about to insult the guy by snubbing the noble gesture.

With concession, Nick gracefully accepted the money, "You didn't have to but thank you." He picked up the cash and slipped it into the front pocket of his dress slacks.

"I had to," Sig stated simply, glancing around the kitchen.

"Well," Nick smiled, breaking the tension with an air of excitement, "I'll have to invite you back to the club this weekend. That was a lot of fun last time."

"I'd love to but I'm working this weekend," Sig said, then added, "But, let me invite you somewhere."

Nick cocked his head questioningly.

Sig sighed, "It's not as exciting as the club but my brothers and I are having a 4th of July party at my parent's…our…lake house: fishing, swimming, baseball, hot dogs, fireworks at night, all that stuff. We'd love for you and Matt to come and hang out with us. We can all camp out and you guys are welcome to sleep over. You could bring your girlfriend, too, if you want." _And by 'we,' loving for you to come, I mean Edgar and me. I'm not so sure about Norman…_

Nick leaned back in his chair, "Honestly, that sounds way more exciting than the club." He was being truthful and not just saying it to make Sig feel better. The thought of fishing and spending quality time like that with Matt was enticing, heartwarming and Nick was sold on the idea. "We'll be there. When are you leaving?"

"Next Friday, a week from today."

"Awesome, Matt will be thrilled," Nick said, trying to keep his voice from sounding too excited. _Try to be cool. You don't want the guy to think you never spend time with your little brother_.

"Well," Sig pushed his chair back, standing up and wiping the sweat from his hands onto his jeans, "I better get Edgar down here so we can go." Giving Nick back the money from that fateful night had been weighing on Sig's mind for some time and he had anticipating feeling relief in doing so. Yet, actually paying the guy back had been an embarrassing and unexpectedly difficult task. Perhaps because Nick seemed so much older and more mature in his suit and tie.

"I'll walk you out," Nick said, walking Sig to the front door. At the bottom of the steps, he called up, "Matt, your friend is leaving. Come say goodbye."

Shuffling came from the upstairs floor. A few seconds later, Matt's bedroom door opened and two teenage boys loudly trucked their way downstairs. Edgar picked up his coat on the way past the coatrack and handed off the empty baseball bag to Sig while he started dutifully putting the offending coat back on his body.

Matt stood on the bottom step and watched his friend get ready to leave. The reality of Edgar's tail of adventure hit home for the young boy, suddenly aware of the fact he almost lost his best friend last night. In true teenage style, he said ignorantly but from his heart, "I'm glad you're still alive, Ed."

The older brothers stiffened at Matt's simple, honest and tactless statement. Edgar literally winced, bending over and huddling his shoulders under his raincoat. He couldn't even look up at Sig or Nick, the refresher of last night's alternative outcomes poorly timed in front of his oldest brother and another grown-up, and he muttered a 'thank you', 'goodbyes', and 'I'll call you later' before scurrying out to wait in the car.

"Matty," Nick said with an admonishing tone after Edgar departed.

Matt held up his hands in a clueless fashion, "What?"

"It's OK," Sig smiled at the two brothers, taking in how much they looked alike standing next to each other, "I'm really glad Edgar is still alive, too."

Nick chuckled, appreciative that Sig was not upset by Matt's indiscreet statement, "That makes all of us."

Sig put his hand on the screen door, about to push it open and leave, when he paused, watching Edgar run to the safety of the Trans Am in the driveway. The scene reminded him of Edgar's recently strange behavior scurrying out of Taco Bell.

Whether it was appropriate or not, Sig wasn't sure, but he turned around and looked pensively at Matt. _I would never intrude but I need help in understanding what's going on in my kid brother's life_. "Matt," Sig said hesitantly, "Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask him anything you want," Nick said invitingly, shifting his focus on his little brother with a hard stare that read: Whatever this guy is about to ask you, you best be honest about it.

"Do you know Jeremy and Aidan from school? They played soccer with Edgar this past fall," Sig asked quietly.

_What a weird question_, Matt thought. "Yeah, those guys are assholes."

"MATTHEW!" Nick raised his voice harshly, humiliated that his little brother would answer a question in such a vulgar fashion to an adult.

"Well, they are!" Matt argued back. _You don't know them!_ "They got real popular this year and now they think they're better than everybody. They were pretty mean to Edgar after his mom died. Course they're mean to anyone not in their clique"

Sig closed his eyes, wincing as if he'd been hit with a fist. If someone had struck him across his face, it would have hurt less than hearing Matt's brutally honest answer. The information struck a personal cord with the oldest brother, painfully identifying first hand with the lasting effects of bullying.

"Still," Nick leaned over the railing leading up to the second floor, "You'll mind your language around adults or you and I will need to have another talk about your mouth lately."

Matt had no desire whatsoever to have another discussion with Nick about his foul vocabulary. There hadn't been a whole lot of verbal discussion during the first talk but Matt got the message all the same. "No need for more talking, Nicky. It won't happen again," he grasped the railing for support, avoiding the flint-hard look in Nick's brown eyes, "I'm sorry." Glancing at the front door, the young boy said softly to Sig, "I'm sorry, sir."

"Thanks for the information, Matt," Sig opened his eyes, "I'd appreciated if you didn't tell Edgar I asked about them." Forcing another painful smile, the blond made the appropriate goodbyes and left.

As he approached the car, Sig didn't bother to run this time. The rain matched his mood and the cold water slapping him in the face was a wake-up call to his own naivety. _My baby brother never said a damn word about kids at school picking on him. Of course, who would he tell? I wasn't around and neither was dad or Norman. Shit, even if we had been, he wouldn't have said anything…he's too much like me; silently enduring the harassment and praying daily it would just go away_.

Sig got in the car, offering Edgar a small smile and tossing the empty baseball bag on the backseat, "Ready to go home?"

"Yes, sir," Edgar answered quietly, picking at the bandages on his hands. He was unsure how Sig felt about Matt's impolite but truthful statement. _Is he angry I told Matt? I'm not sure if I was allowed to talk about it. I should have asked first. Damn it, this trip really sucked: Stupid rain slicker, no bike equals no trust, Dum-Dum lollipop for little kids, mean guys at school in Taco Bell, Sig's hurting teeth and special dentist, Norman's upcoming drive home, Matt's big ass mouth…and my backside hurts from that paddling I got this morning. I just want to go home and crawl under my bed for the rest of the day! Oh, God…is the barber next? _

Sig stared at his youngest brother for a long second, amazed that just when he thought it wasn't possible to feel worse for the kid, something came along to make him feel even sorrier for the events that followed mom's death.

_Mom… What would mom do if she were here?_ Backing out of the driveway, his arm slung over the back of Edgar's seat as he craned his neck to check for oncoming traffic, Sig had already decided he was making a cake when they got home. _And I'm letting my kid brother lick the spoon AND the bowl when I'm done. Skip the barber shop, he likes his hair long, let 'em keep it. _

~tbc


	53. New Tricks

"Edgar, he'll be here before you know it."

Sig repeated the phrase for the third time in the last thirty minutes. In regards to their father's extended fishing trips, the same phrase had been said so often by their mother over the years, it tended to roll off Sig's tongue like someone imprinted the words in his brain.

"He should have been home by now," Edgar said as he picked at his lasagna.

"If it was a normal day, yes, he would have been home by now," Sig purposefully sounded calm, throwing in a pinch of irritation over Edgar's fretting. He hoped the mixture of both would ease Edgar's nerves and get the kid to realize he was worried about nothing. At least that's what Sig kept telling himself…over and over. "To be honest, if Norman had come home on time, I'd be pretty pissed off."

Edgar balanced his fork between his fingertips, "Why?"

"Because it meant that he wasn't careful about driving home in this shi…crap," Sig said firmly, standing up and clearing his plate and utensils. He glanced at Edgar's square of meaty lasagna and noticed the young teen had barely eaten more than two bites. "Eat, will ya? Please," Sig made a sour puss on his face, trying to get Edgar to smile.

With a sigh, Edgar bowed his head and forced another bite. His stomach was a tangled mess. Every minute that went by without Norman's truck pulling into the driveway added another wrinkle to his small intestines and the last thing he could think about was being hungry.

Sig turned and dropped his plate into the sink, glancing inconspicuously at the clock over the stove. It was close to 8:15. Norman got off work at 7:00. _It's a fifteen minute drive from the hardware store to here. My brother's just taking his time, driving slowly and coming straight home…just like I told him to. There's nothing to worry about and, even if there was, I can't let Edgar see I'm worried._

Hail and heavy rain were pounding off the glass windows of the house and the occasional lighting strikes followed by low rumbles of thunder shook the ground underneath of them. Although it was summer and the sun wouldn't be setting for another hour, it might as well be nighttime. The skies were dark and ominous and sunset had become a forgotten event.

Sitting back down at the kitchen table, Sig tried to sound cheery, "Dukes of Hazzard comes on tonight."

"TV's out," Edgar mumbled with a mouth full of lasagna. Swallowing, he added, "It's been out since we got home."

"You want to play cards, then?" Sig asked straight-faced, "I can show you how to play poker."

In unison, Sig and Edgar looked at each other and offered the other a weak, half-hearted smile. It would have been a funny joke if last night's recollections were not so fresh in their minds.

Their day together had been a long one and it was starting to show. The morning's discussions took a toll on both of them, despite their respective naps. Then, after the excursions to the bank, Taco Bell, the hardware and grocery stores and Nick's house, the two of them returned home to find their basement taking on water.

After an hour of mopping and drying, Edgar found a way to fix the mechanical failure in the sump-pump. With his little brother's instructions, Sig rigged the broken part and the water began receding. Regardless of the grueling process, the brothers enjoyed working with each other, although Sig did a majority of the hard labor.

Once the groceries were unpacked, Sig and Edgar took some extra things purchased at the store and went over to check on their neighbor, Mr. Steward. The elderly gentleman was grateful for the bag of food and company, considering the lack of his favorite TV programs, and the three of them ended up visiting for longer than expected.

By the time the boys returned home, there was no time for baking a cake. Sig prepped for dinner while Edgar accomplished the simple chore of dusting the house.

The little brother knew his chore list extended well beyond dusting but Sig insisted he rest his hands and avoid causing further damage by pushing himself. Then the youngest brother laid down on the sofa and tried to read. On his belly, he could look into the kitchen and watch his oldest brother making dinner. The sounds of the clattering pots and pans filled him with a sense of home and normalcy and he ended up watching more than he read.

When dinnertime rolled around, the house smelled of lasagna and fresh bread. Although they waited as long as they could, by 7:45, Norman had still not arrived home and Sig insisted they start eating without him.

As Edgar came into the kitchen, he found a soft pillow thoughtfully placed on his seat at the kitchen table. He had no idea when it got there but he knew who left it. Embarrassed to thank his oldest brother for the kind gesture, Edgar simply sat down and tried to eat.

At the present, the oldest and youngest brother were still eating and waiting, both trying not to watch the clock as each minute past without a middle brother coming through the back door.

"I think I know how to play a little poker already," Edgar quipped with a smile.

Sig lifted an eyebrow, "Oh, a shark, are ya?"

"Ummm," Edgar grinned shyly, "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two."

"I'd like to see that," Sig muttered sarcastically. "Anyway," the eldest brother grew serious, leaning his elbows on the table, "I invited Nick and Matt to come with us to the lake for 4th of July."

"That's so cool!" Edgar said excitedly, showing joy for the first time in a long while, "I never got to take a friend before."

Sig laughed at Edgar's enthusiastic reaction, "He's been a good friend to you."

Edgar raised an eyebrow, looking just like his oldest brother.

"Oh, yeah, you two have gotten into your share of troubles…but Matt's a great kid…just like you are," Sig truthfully explained.

"He's the only friend I have left," Edgar mentioned with a sad smile.

_That reminds me_. Sig sighed, at a loss for how to talk about this topic. He went for the traditional, summer 'adult to child' question, "Are you looking forward to going back to school?"

Edgar stared at Sig like he just lost his mind. "Hell, no!" the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Edgar," Sig admonished him gently.

"Sorry," Edgar let his fork drop on the plate, "But I hate school. You know that."

"It can't all be bad," Sig said encouragingly, "What about middle school sports, like soccer and baseball?"

Looking off into the distance, Edgar pursed his lips together, debating on whether or not he should tell Sig he planned on quitting soccer in the fall. _He's gonna find out anyway._ "I'm not doing soccer in the fall."

Sig's eyes narrowed to slits, "You love soccer. Why not?"

Edgar picked up his fork and began pushing his food around, making a little mountain range of lasagna noodles, "I just don't want to play anymore. It's too much with school and the riding circuit and stuff at home. I don't have time."

"You can make time," Sig pushed.

"It's too much."

"You've always made time before."

"That was different."

"How so?"

"Just was."

"How?"

Edgar raised his voice, coming close to yelling, "Mom was around, OK!"

Sig leaned back in his chair, his shoulders slumping and bowing his head. Still, he refused to give up, "Dad will take you to your games. He'll come and watch you play."

"Yeah, and complain the whole fucking time," Edgar got up suddenly, pushing his chair back with such force, it almost tipped over. Scooping up his plate and utensils, the youngest brother came close to slamming them into the sink and breaking the glass. Edgar stood at the sink, staring out the window and into the storm. He wondered which one was worse; the one outside or the one inside his heart.

Wisely, Sig ignored the language and hostility seething out of his youngest brother. In reality, he was grateful Edgar was showing his true emotions. _The kid has every right to be pissed off. God knows I am. And he's correct; Dad will be his usual grouchy self when it comes to carpooling around with the other soccer moms. But the Old Man has to face our new family arrangements just like the rest of us and that comes with all kinds of new responsibilities we never had to worry about before. _

Sig stood up and walked over to his brother, coming up from behind him and putting two soft hands on either of Edgar's rigid shoulders. He pulled his brother back slightly, molding Edgar's back to his own solid chest. "Then you let him complain and ignore it," Sig spoke quietly.

Some of the rigidity left Edgar's shoulders and leaned back. "It's hard, Sig," the youngest brother softened his voice, "He seems so mad all the time. It makes me nervous."

"Then Norman can go with you." Sig frowned. _That is if he ever makes it home tonight_. "Norman has a way of deflecting Dad's anger and annoyance onto himself. It's one of his many hidden talents."

"Norman will be busy with work and school," Edgar said with lowly acceptance, "He has his own friends and his own life."

"Kid…"

"No," the young teenager pulled away from his brother and turned around to face him. "Things are different now. It's just the way things are." Edgar's green eyes turned hard and unwavering, like his dreams for his future had just been eradicated and he was trying to 'take it like a man', "I'm not doing soccer in the fall…and maybe not even motorbike racing anymore."

Sig's expression fell to the floor. The look on Edgar's face was so pained and broken and Sig felt it was his duty to fight off whatever was causing his little brother so much anguish. He opened his mouth to fight an argument that could not be won when two headlights turned into the driveway.

"This discussion is far from over," Sig said firmly, pointing in Edgar's direction, "I'm not letting you throw away all the things you love because Dad's miserable to be around. THAT is NOT happening." _And I can add another thing to the list of things I need to talk to Dad about when he gets home._

Edgar was so relieved to see the lights of the Ford pick-up truck, he let the discussion go. _I know I'm right, Sig. You're the one that can't face it. Dad's an old dog and you can't teach old dogs new tricks_. "Sorry for cussing," Edgar whispered quickly before Norman came into the house.

"Should I get the soap out for your mouth," Sig cocked his head mockingly.

Edgar gasped, "Would you do that?"

"No way, kid," Sig's face broke into a wide smile, "I always considered that a barbaric practice, along with writing lines and making a tender backside sit on a hard chair." He ruffled his brother's silky hair and nodded over to the pillow that had mysteriously appeared on Edgar's chair before dinner.

"It's not so bad, Sig," Edgar dropped his guard, "I can barely feel it anymore. My hands, on the other hand…" Edgar made a funny face. "…guess that's pretty funny, my hands on the other hand."

"Hysterical," Sig said flatly, "And you will be taking something for them in a few minutes…" he opened the back storm door, pushing out the screen door with his left hand for Norman's easy entrance, "…just like I'll be taking something for my jaw right along with you."

The oldest brother was looking over at Edgar who was standing by the sink so he never watched Norman approaching the house and coming up the porch steps.

Needless to say, when Norman got to the opened screen door, soaked from head to toe and covered in mud from his shoes to his knees and all over his shirt, Sig was mildly shocked. What turned out to be more shocking was the bundle of wet, muddy-matted fur being held in the middle brother's strong arms.

As Norman stepped into the house, his mouth was already moving, "Now, Sig, I can explain…"

"**A DOG!**" Sig shouted when he realized there were two ears, two brown eyes and a pink nose attached to the bundle in his younger brother's arms.

"**WHAT?**" Edgar exclaimed, his vision hampered by the kitchen counter. He walked past the sink and hanging cabinets to come in full view of the cutest, dirtiest dog he'd ever seen in his life.

The poor creature was covered in mud so it was impossible to tell what color the fur was supposed to be but its ribs showed clearly through the matted fur and it was obvious the medium-size dog hadn't eaten in a while. Still, the dog didn't struggle in its captive's brawny arms, only rested its head against Norman's chest and shook like a leaf.

Sig took a step back and glared at Norman so hard it was a miracle the middle brother wasn't bowled over by the look alone.

Shifting the dog's weight, Norman launched into the speech he rehearsed on the drive home, "I found her on the side of the road…right before the bridge on Rt 22. She almost got hit by a car. I pulled over and it took me forever to find her hiding out in the woods. I couldn't leave her out in this storm so…I brought her home."

"You brought her home?" Sig repeated the words like they were foreign to him.

"Oh my God, she's so sweet," Edgar shimmied past his oldest brother to inspect the frightened animal. He held out his hand, palm up, and let the dog take a whiff of his scent. The dog lifted her head off of Norman's chest and smelled the offered hand. Then, she gave the lasagna-scented fingers a good lick. Turning liquid brown eyes to the young boy, she panted, almost smiling.

"You brought her home," Sig seemed stuck on those four words.

"Well…" Norman said cautiously, taking a slow, timid step into the house with the animal in his arms. He was truly afraid Sig would to tell him both he and the dog could go sleep in the truck tonight. "…I couldn't leave her out there. She could get killed in this weather. Ain't got no tags. I checked."

"She probably belongs to someone, Norman," Sig felt his world spinning, "She probably got scared off by the storm and escaped out of someone's back yard."

"Maybe," Norman took another brave step into the kitchen, easing both him and the dog into the house, "But wherever she came from, she's not getting any food. Her ribs are sticking out."

By this time, Edgar was petting the lost animal on her muddy forehead and staring lovingly into those piercing brown eyes. He leaned in and was rewarded with a doggy kiss from a warm, pink tongue, the only part of the canine not covered in filth

Sig crossed his arms, "Wherever she came from, she can go…"

"Can we keep her?" Edgar turned pleading eyes to his oldest brother. The dog followed the boy's gaze over to the oldest brother, noticing him for the first time.

From the second the animal came into the house, those were the four words Sig was dreading. Unfortunately, he had to hear them several more times that night.

"Can we? Can we keep her?" Edgar asked again, his young voice bordering on a frenzied tone, "Can we keep her, Sig? Please?"

Now Edgar seemed stuck on the same four words and it was only the beginning. Norman wisely kept his mouth shut. He wanted to join with Edgar's pleas but, reading the frustrated look on Sig's face, he sensed ganging up on his older brother wouldn't help the dog's chances. Instead, he pulled out his best 'puppy-dog' eyes and shot them back at the tall blond scowling at him.

Sig was left with three pairs of eyes burning a hole in his heart, one the same blue as his own, one the color of his mother's and a new pair of deep brown that seemed to be making a case on her own behalf. As much as he wanted to put the dog out, he simply couldn't. He was too softhearted and the damn dog was just too cute.

_Oh for the love of God…._ "Just until we find her owners," Sig declared, "We'll put a notice in the Lost and Found section of the paper and call the pound to see if someone reported her missing. If no one comes, we can find her another…"

Edgar started bouncing up and down like a little girl, cheering and clapping his injured hands without feeling the pain. The boy was running on pure adrenaline.

The dog barked happily in response to the excitement, wagging her tail weakly against Norman's hip.

Norman hid a pumped fist under the dog's belly, breathlessly turning to his youngest brother and purposefully ignoring Sig, "Let's go give her a bath. I need one myself." He slipped off his good cowboy boots using the alternative foot and pushed them by the door.

Edgar took off from the kitchen, running through the house and calling back, "I'll run the water."

Norman followed him before Sig had a chance to finish his lecture.

Sig threw his hands up, watching his brothers leaving the kitchen. He hollered through the house, "Did you guys even hear me?"

"Fry up some ground meat while you're heating my dinner," Norman casually called back as he took the dog upstairs.

_Fry up some fucking meat?! Jesus Christ!_ Irritated beyond belief, Sig took Norman's cowboys boots, opened the screen door and threw them out into the rain. Then he went to the cabinet and pulled out a frying pan, slamming it down onto the stovetop.

Mindlessly, he reheated the oven and retrieved a pound of frozen ground chuck out of the freezer. For good measure, he slammed it in the frying pan and clicked on the gas range. After throwing the lasagna pan in the oven, Sig mopped the kitchen floor, a string of foul swear words repeating over and over in his mind.

Finally, his conscious getting the better of him, he went outside and collected Norman's boots from the bottom of the porch steps. Placing the drenched cowboy boots by the back door, Sig lit a cigarette and tried to collect what was left of his sanity.

* * *

The bathtub was filled with one dog, a few inches of water and about a pound of mud. Using the detachable shower nozzle, Norman cleaned the animal free of mud, grass and got only knows what else.

The middle brother had stripped off his muddy clothes, leaving a large pile of dirty laundry on the bathroom floor. He gave the dog a bath in only his silky boxers, Edgar bouncing behind him and asking a hundred and one questions.

"What kind of dog do you think she is?" the youngest brother asked.

Norman shook his head, "Don't know. She looks like a lab but she's too small, maybe some kind of lab mix."

The patient dog looked around the tub, sniffing the containers of shampoo and soap. Standing perfectly still except for the shifting of her paws, the dog obediently allowed Norman to wash her off.

Edgar tried continuously to position himself around the tub to get a better look, "How old is she?"

"Young, I think. Her skin is pretty soft."

"She's got big paws."

"Maybe she's still a puppy."

"So she might be a full lab after all."

"Don't know."

"Should you be using human shampoo?"

"Probably not.'

"What are we going to name her?"

_Oh, boy. Maybe we should ask Sig what he wants to name her. That should go over like a lead balloon_. "Will you sit down," Norman commanded Edgar gently, "There's not a lot of room in here, kid, and your bouncing around is making me nervous."

"Sorry," Edgar apologized, taking a seat on the toilet, "I just wish I could help you. I hate that my hands are still messed up."

Norman rinsed the dog several times over, Edgar carefully inspecting his work. When he was done, he instructed his younger brother, "You can help me by getting some towels and finding mom's old hairdryer under the sink." At that moment, the dog decided to dry herself off. With a hearty shake, she shook water all over Norman and the bathroom walls.

"Ughhhh," Norman moaned, then laughed good-naturedly, "I forgot how hard this is. Sig will have a hissy fit if he sees this mess."

"She's a good dog," Edgar announced like a proud owner, "I can tell." He got up, returning a moment later with a stack of clean towel. Rooting under the sink, he found the pink hairdryer, lying untouched for over six months. "I hope this thing still works."

"Wellll," Norman grumbled as he picked up the wet dog from the tub, "There's only one way to find out."

* * *

Laughter coming from the bathroom could be heard throughout the entire house as the hairdryer turned on and the dog tried to get away.

Sig could hear his brothers chasing the dog around the upstairs, Norman laughing his ass off when the wet dog jumped into Sig's bed. Finally, the uproar died down as the dog was captured and effectively towel-dried free of moisture.

A moment later, the shower water started running and Edgar and the dog came bounding down the steps. The dog followed Edgar into the kitchen, looking around for the next exciting thing to happen. The smell of fresh cooked meat and warming lasagna must have been enticing to the starving animal and she stopped dead in her tracks, sniffing the air and salivating.

"She's beautiful, Sig," Edgar bounced into the kitchen, "You'd would have never known it but look at her now."

Sig looked up and straight ahead at the back of the stove. He didn't want to look at her. He knew he shouldn't. Inexplicably, he had already added some leftover brown gravy to the frying chuck meat, unconsciously trying to please the four-footed intruder.

Still, Edgar was unknowingly insistent, "She's just gorgeous. Look, Sig. Look."

Finally, Sig looked over at the archway between the living room and kitchen. Sitting there on her hind quarters was a pretty, cream-colored lab with soft, floppy ears that were too big for her head. She was painfully skinny but had the coat of a healthy dog and a long tail that was currently thumping against the floor. The dog cocked her head, staring longingly at the tall guy with the spatula, covered in greasy juices, in his hand.

"Hhhm," Sig quickly looked away before he overdosed on cuteness overload, grabbing a plastic bowl from the cabinet. He poured the contents of the frying pan into the bowl and set it on the counter to cool. "Where's your brother?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"He's cleaning up the bathroom and getting a shower," Edgar said distractedly, his eyes locked on the dog and her every move, her ever breath. The dog started sniffing around the kitchen, inspecting her new, strange surroundings.

Sig sighed, "Go lay out some newspaper on the garage floor."

"Good idea," Edgar said, happily walking off into the garage.

Glancing at the floor as the animal sniffed the refrigerator, Sig muttered low, "And what the hell am I gonna do with YOU?"

As if the dog understood the questioning tone, she stopped sniffing and looked up.

"This is fucking great," Sig complained to the dog, "Just fucking great." He turned back to the bowl of ground beef and picked it up, setting it on the floor in front of the animal.

The dog backed up at first, as if she'd never seen food before.

"Well, I made it for YOU," Sig grumbled, "You better eat it. That should have been in our beef stew for Sunday."

Tentatively, the dog approached the bowl. With several hesitant sniffs, she looked up at Sig, almost expecting him to take the food away from her.

"It's yours now. We won't be using it," Sig softened his tone, unable to help himself under the gaze of those brown eyes.

When the bowl still remained on the floor, the dog crouched up next to it and took her first bite. After one bite, the hungry animal was hooked, gobbling up the food like she hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Easy, girl," Sig leaned down and patted the dog's head, "Nobody's gonna take it from you. Take your time." The oldest brother had to admit, she was a lovely dog and had fur as soft as velvet under his hand.

"You like her?" Edgar asked from the doorway. He had watched his eldest brother petting the dog in silence for a few seconds, his hopes going sky high at the possibility Sig might be getting attached.

"I think he does," Norman came through the living room, observing the same sweet interaction. He had a large bundle of laundry in his hands and he was wearing only a pair of sweatpants and socks. Bare-chested, he was mud-free and smelled like Dove soap.

Sig stood up like he'd been caught cheating on his math exam. "It doesn't matter what I think," he groused, "And put a freaking shirt on!"

Norman turned and disappeared into the laundry room. The sounds of the washing machine began to drown out the sounds of the storm still raging outside.

Sig pulled the lasagna pan out of the oven and placed it on the stovetop. Encouragingly, he asked the lanky boy in the garage doorway, "Edgar, did you want more supper? You didn't eat a whole lot"."

"No, thanks," Edgar walked slowly over to the dog, engrossed in watching the animal eat. "Don't you think we should give her some water, too?"

In response to the question, Norman came in the room, fresh shirt from the folded clothes in the laundry room slung around his shoulders, and walked over to the sink, "We could both use some. I'm thirsty after chasing her around in the pouring rain. I'm lucky I had my Mag-Light in the truck or I would have never found her." He filled another plastic bowl up with water and placed it on the floor next to the bowl of food, at least what was left of the dog's food. Then, he poured himself a drink of cool water in a glass and grabbed an empty plate.

"Yes, I'm ever soooo grateful that you had your Mag-Light," Sig sneered at his younger brother.

Shoving his oldest brother to the side, Norman scooped out two large squares of lasagna, ripped off a quarter of the fresh bread loaf and settled himself down at the kitchen table with a large, anticipatory sigh. Sig shot a sideways look towards Norman that read: _There's a lot we need to talk about later, if I don't kill you before then._

"I told you to put a shirt on," Sig fussed.

"It's on," Norman smiled, pulling on either side of the t-shirt resting across his shoulders.

"ALL the way on."

"Fine," Norman took the shirt off his shoulders and placed it over his upper body correctly. _Mom would not allow me to come to the dinner table half-dressed so I don't know why I'm pushing my luck with Sig. Maybe he's the 'new' Dad in my life; someone to annoy_. Dressed, the middle brother dug into this meal.

The noise of Norman's gobbling and the dog's lapping of water were harmonious with each other. Edgar crouched on the floor, mesmerized by the canine method of getting a drink, tongue bent backwards to serve as a private ladle.

Sig stood back, staring at the scene around him. It was his kitchen, these were his brothers, but there was someone else's dog slobbering water from the plastic bowl onto the floor. Edgar was hanging close by the dog, waiting for its next move. Sig couldn't understand what Edgar's fascination was with the dog. _It's not like the kid hasn't had a dog before. He should know what they do. _

Still, Edgar's mind had become a one track train of thought, like planning on long walks to the park and taking the dog to the lake. Mainly, the youngest brother felt an overwhelming sense of completeness, as if the dog was heaven-sent and meant to ease his constant loneliness and calm his nerves.

"Edgar," Sig asked gently, "Can you take the dog in the garage and show her where to…to go?"

Pleased to help out, Edgar stood up and called the dog to his side with a pat of his hand to his thigh. Making kissy sounds out to the garage, the young teen coaxed the hesitant dog though the doorway and into the attached garage.

"See if you can find Jack's old collar, leash and dog bowls while you're out there," Norman called after him, moving onto his second helping of lasagna, "They should be in the storage box above the shelves on the side. Red box, blue top, left hand side, last time I saw them. Bring all the dog stuff back with you when you come in."

"OK," Edgar hollered happily from the garage.

"WHAT FOR?" Sig hissed softly through clenched teeth, low enough for only Norman to hear him. He walked around the kitchen table and over to the garage door, closing it quietly so he and Norman could have a few moments alone.

"For the dog, butt munch," Norman swallowed and flashed Sig an exasperated look, "Duh."

"I am going to strangle you," Sig yelled in a whisper, coming close to getting into Norman's face as he hovered over the table.

"Dad will just…"

"DAD is the last damn thing I'm worried about," Sig slammed his hand on the table, "She's NOT our dog, Norman. What happens when her owners coming looking for her? What then? You gonna hold that kid while he cries his eyes out because, yet again, he's lost another thing he loves. Did you think about that? Did you?"

"NO," Norman fired back, "I was too busy trying to save the dog's life and not get killed myself."

"It was a stupid, stupid thing to do, bringing that damn mutt home," Sig said as he paced around the kitchen table, glaring at Norman as he past him.

"Fuck off, Sig," Norman raised his voice, staring his brother down, "You would have done the same damn thing if you'd been there and don't for one second think of trying to tell me otherwise."

Sig opened his mouth, stopped and closed his lips. He sighed disgustedly and turned away, looking out the window and into the darkness. _I absolutely HATE it when he's right._

"It was the right thing to do," Norman said, reading his brother's mind and pushing his luck.

Sig huffed, turning his head to the side and catching Norman's gaze out of the corner of his eye, "And the right thing to do is to try and find her owners. You DO know that, right?"

Norman looked down at his plate, bowing his head and studying the patterns left by the oozing spaghetti sauce. "Maybe no one will come for her," he said hopefully, staring at the back of Sig's blond head.

"We'll have to wait and see, won't we?" Sig sighed, feeling extremely frustrated by the new wrinkle in their lives, "Everyday now, that kid…" he pointed to the garage door, "…is gonna live on pins and needles, praying the phone doesn't ring or no one knocks on our door. It's like he'll be back to waiting for the other shoe to drop and I can't fucking stand that."

"He won't be the only one," Norman announced shyly, picking up his plate and depositing it in the sink. It was impossible to eat with Sig in the room, complaining and moaning about the dog. The oldest brother's negative vibes turned Norman's stomach, along with the image of Edgar's crestfallen face if the dog's owners did respond to their efforts in finding them. Seeing the rest of the dirty dinner dishes, the middle brother filled up the sink and began washing the dirty plates. Sig pulled up the bowls from the floor and added them to the pile.

Norman seemed lost in thought. Finally, he announced with his hands covered in suds, "If someone comes for her, we'll get Edgar another dog."

"Oh, Jesus, Norman, he's gonna get attached to this one," Sig grumbled as he packed up the leftover lasagna, "I don't think his affection…"

"Found it!" Edgar announced, opening the garage door and walking back into the kitchen, leash and old dog bowls in hand, "And I think she's at least paper trained cause she…."

"No need for details," Sig took the leash and hung it up on the key hooks by the back door. Inwardly, he smiled, remembering Jack and the honorary place for the dog leash. Jack loved walks, but yet again, what dog doesn't. He looked down at the shy dog hanging by Edgar's ankles, practically hiding behind his legs. _God help me._ "Just leave the garage door open tonight and the kitchen light on. She can find her way. We'll keep her in the kitchen tonight."

"Can we give her a name, Sig?" Edgar asked quietly, "Seems silly to call her dog or girl, doesn't it?"

_Oh God, not a name…please…not a name_. "Ummm, maybe just 'girl' for now, huh, kid?" the eldest brother reached over and stroked his youngest brother's hair. "We have to make a good effort to find her people. It would be a shame to give her a name that isn't hers."

"What's on TV tonight," Norman called from the sink, trying to change the topic, "Oh, it's Friday night…Dukes of Hazzard should be on."

"Naw, TV's out," Edgar explained.

"That sucks," Norman was disappointed. The General Lee was one of his favorite shows, regardless of the fact that the General was a Dodge. "You know, if the dog were a boy…" he looked over quickly at Sig, apologetically, "…and ours…we could have named him Duke. Duke's a great name for a dog…a boy dog, that is."

Edgar didn't have to think for more than a second. The name jumped out at him like it was meant to be. "**Daisy**," he said flatly, watching the dog's ears perk up, "We'll call her Daisy," he declared proudly, adding under Sig's stern glare, "…if she stays, that is."

"UMMM," Norman murmured appreciatively, "I always liked her short, short shorts. I wonder how she gets…"

Sig coughed inconspicuously, interrupting Norman's thoughts on Daisy Duke's attire. "Kid, IF is the big word," he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter top, "Even if we can't find her owners, Dad still has to say it's OK for us to have a dog…and that's an even bigger IF."

"God, that would suck if Dad makes us take her to the pound or give her away," Norman started regretting not taking the long way home.

_You couldn't have realized that earlier…like before you brought the dog into our house and our lives?_ Sig no longer wished to talk about the dog and changed the topic, "What sucks is mopping up the basement because we were taking on water."

Norman was instantly concerned, "Sump pump again?"

"Yep."

"I showed him how to fix it," Edgar said proudly, "Just like you showed me that one time, Norm."

"Edgggar," Sig feigned indignation, "I thought you came up with that idea."

The youngest brother only shrugged innocently and walked away, the dog following him to the living room sofa. The two of them laid down on the couch and curled up together, watching the lightning illumining the night sky. Edgar stroked the dog's fur and whispered things into her ears that were only for her to hear.

"Jesus," Sig muttered low from the kitchen doorway to his younger brother, "The dog's on the furniture already."

Norman looked beyond Sig's gaze. Edgar and the dog looked comfortably snuggled up together like they had known each other all their lives. The middle brother whispered to Sig, "It looks like we just got replaced by a dog."

* * *

The remainder of the evening was spent with the boys discussing mundane things and making plans for the 4th of July. The three of them, plus one dog, hung out in the living room and talked for hours.

Since the weather was cool, Sig started a fire in the fireplace. The fire turned out to be an excellently timed idea since the house lost power five minutes after the fire was started. The washing machine stopped in mid-cycle, dirty laundry and towels sitting in wait to be rinsed off.

Norman expressed his sincere hope that Amanda would be allowed to come to the lake. Edgar added casually that it would be nice if Amanda brought her sister with her. Norman and Sig looked knowingly over at each other but said nothing. Sig mentioned Nick and Matt were coming. Norman kept his mouth shut.

Finally, several hours later, the power came back on and Sig extinguished the fire. The washing machine picked up where it left off.

Deciding that the day had been long enough, Sig instructed his youngest brother to get ready for bed.

Edgar gave his oldest brother one last pleading look for the night, "Can Daisy…I mean the dog…sleep in my room?"

"No," Sig said gently, looking at the sleeping dog snoring on the sofa, "She's a nice, dog, Edgar, but we don't know anything about her. She may not have had her shots and who knows what she's been through. I shouldn't have even allowed her on the sofa with you." The oldest brother sighed, feeling like an old 'softie.' "I think it's better if we leave her down here. She can stay right where she is. She seems comfortable enough."

"Yes, sir," Edgar said glumly, giving the sleeping dog one last stroke of her head. He stood up and headed up the stairs.

"Your hands still hurt?" Sig asked, looking back over the sofa.

Edgar actually had to think about it. His hands had been the last things on his mind since the dog came in the house. "No," he said quietly, "Not anymore."

"I wish I could say the same thing for my jaw," the oldest brother admitted.

"That bad?" Norman asked.

"Yeah," Sig confessed, "It's getting worse every day."

Edgar asked shyly from the steps, "You still have to go to work this weekend?"

"Yeah, buddy," Sig said, standing up and leaving for the kitchen, "Go…" he pointed up the steps, "Teeth."

"Yes, sir," Edgar climbed the stairs.

Norman got up and followed Sig into the kitchen. "You want me to go with you on Wednesday?"

"No," Sig answered, "I'm going to the oral surgeon right after work."

"Well," Norman grabbed a kitchen chair, "I'll want a full report when you get home." He shot Sig a seriously fake stern look and carried the chair into the living room.

Sig grabbed another chair and followed Norman, "I'll get the doctor to write everything down for you. How 'bout that?"

The two oldest brothers blocked the bottom of the steps with the makeshift doggy gate and climbed over, heading upstairs after their youngest brother.

* * *

In the wee hours of night, 'Daisy' woke from her slumber, feeling better than she had in a long time. Her belly was full and she was no longer wet and afraid. It took her a few minutes to remember where she was. _This is a nice house, a lot better than my old one. These guys seem nice. They like each other and they smell the same. I think they are from the same litter. It feels like home here but there's sadness in this house and I don't understand why. _

_My first house, at least the only one I can remember, was very small and there were a lot of mean kids. At first, they seemed to like me, bringing me home from the pound when that big tree was in their living room. They called me 'Sandy' but, to be honest, I never really liked the name. I answered to it because I wanted to make them happy. _

_But once the tree got thrown out, I got thrown out into the yard. _

_I don't know what I did wrong. I went on the paper like they told me too. Of course I had a few accidents but I'm only a year old. I did chew a few things I shouldn't have but they didn't give me any toys to play with and I was bored. I know I could have been better but I tried. I really tried._

_I lived out in the yard for a time, I don't know how long, cause I'm not really good with telling time. I know hot and cold & light and dark but that's about it. Then, one day, the big truck came and the family put a lot of stuff in it. Before I knew it, they left with the big truck and never came back._

_I was hungry for a long, long time but I stayed in the yard, waiting and hoping they'd come back for me. They never came. So, I went off on my own. I lived in the woods for some time, eating bugs and other stuff I don't care to mention. It was OK but it was very lonely and frightening and I missed my family. They weren't very nice to me but at least I wasn't alone. _

_Then, this big wet came, and heavy balls of something with flashes of light, and I got real scared. I just ran and ran, trying to get away from the noise._

_The big guy found me and tried to get me. I wasn't so sure about him and tried to get away again and again. But he just wouldn't give up and that truck looked real nice and comfortable so I gave up._

_Now, I'm here._ Jumping off the sofa, she headed to the garage to relieve herself as she had been instructed. Coming back through the kitchen and into the living room, 'Daisy' looked around, noticing the stairs and the blocked exit. _ Guess they don't know I'm a real good jumper. I'd like to see what the upstairs looks like. I won't let them know I was up there. I'll just look around and come back here. I can be real quiet when I want to be._

It took 'Daisy' all of five seconds to jump over the chairs and head cautiously upstairs.

The first room she stopped in was the bathroom. _Smells clean. The big guy cleaned it after the mess he made trying to wash me. I smell like a human now. Still, there's a faint smell of blood on the floor. It belongs to the guy that found me_.

Leaving that room, she walked down the hallway and stopped at the next open doorway. _This is the room with the female smell. It's very, very faint but it's still here. It's all over the house, too. Funny, I don't think a female lives here anymore. It also smells like an old man in here. He must be the boss._

Her next stop was across the hallway. She walked in quietly and sat on the floor, staring at the long figure in the bed. _This tall one pretends he doesn't like me but I know he does. Dogs know these things. He seems to be the one in charge so I wonder where the old man is at. _

Wandering on, 'Daisy' visited Norman's room, sitting still in the bedroom and watching the sleeping figure. _The big one saved me tonight. I'll never forget that. I got mud all over the inside of his truck and on him but he didn't seem to care. He smells really good, too, like cheese and meat_.

Her last stop was the place she was looking for. Sitting on Edgar's bedroom floor, 'Daisy' stared up at the boy in the bed. _I like this young one very, very much. I trust him. He wants me to stay. I heard the word 'pound' and I know what that means. I want to stay as close to this one as possible. He needs me. Something's wrong with his hands but he still pets me. He may have been hurt recently. He's scared all the time – I know that because he told me so when we were alone in the garage. He told me some other stuff, too, but it's a secret_.

As Daisy watched, Edgar was having multiple nightmares in his sleep, one right after the other. The stubborn 13 year old had insisted on sleeping on his own, concerned about Norman working all day and Sig having to go to work in the morning. So he reassured his brothers he'd be fine tonight and went to his room alone.

Daisy watched the boy toss and turn, moaning softly to himself and struggling with his covers. _Something's wrong with the boy. Better get the tall guy. He'll know what to do…I hope he's not mad I'm up here_. _ I'd hate to get put out again. I guess it's a chance I'll have to take._

~tbc


	54. Old Problems

Being the smart Labrador (with a hint of Border Collie past down from her grandsire) that she was, Daisy left Edgar's room and changed her original course. Judging from his cool reception to her initial presence in the home, she sensed that the tall guy may not be the most receptive to her request for assistance, so she astutely headed back into the big guy's bedroom.

Norman was asleep in his bed, his large left hand hanging over the side and snoring softly on his belly.

Daisy came up to the edge of the bed and sat down on her haunches. Staring up at the bulky snoring figure, she weighed her options. _ I could just go back downstairs and they'd never have to know I was up here. Apparently, they didn't want me up here in the first place or they wouldn't have put up that sad excuse for a gate to keep me out. I try to be a good dog but sometimes curiosity gets the best of me. Not like a cat, though, because that would be an insult to any dog. Cats are sneaky, secretive creatures that only look out for themselves. I just wanted to see what the house looked like up top. _

_But being a good dog means you protect. That's a dog's #1 job; PROTECTION. All the love and licks and kisses are just the icing on the cake; the fun part of the job. So, if I'm doing my job like a good dog should, I have to let somebody know that the boy is in trouble. He could be sick or lonely. His nose could be dry. I don't know what's wrong because I didn't get close enough to see. I didn't want to scare him. Maybe he's really sick and needs the older members of his pack to help him. _

_I can't just go back downstairs and leave one of my people, if they are my new people, in trouble. That goes against the fabric of my canine makeup. I AM a good dog. My old people just didn't give me a chance to show them. Things are going to be different this time around._

_Well, here goes nothing._

* * *

Lost in a decadent dream of Daisy Duke, minus the short white shorts, Norman was in early-80's-teenage-boy heaven. Therefore, the wet nose and slobbery tongue being shoved into his dangling palm was an unwelcomed distraction from those long, tan legs. He tried several times to push the offending wet nose away and return to his tantalizing dream. Yet, the damp nose and tongue persisted with singular intent.

Reluctantly, Norman opened one eye, found himself staring into the sweet face of a young lab and recoiled back in his bed. Crammed up against the wall, the tough middle brother had a mild panic attack. _Shit, there's a dog in my room. Holy hell, how'd this dog get here_… Memories of finding the stray animal in the pouring rain came back to Norman a few seconds later and he relaxed his defensive posture. _Oh, yeah, I brought the dog home. I'm damn lucky I got the mutt in the front door and past Sig. Man, I hope I made the right decision bringing her home. It's gonna take some getting used to having a dog in the house again, although I don't foresee it being a difficult transition. The difficult transition would be if the dog had to leave. _

"How'd you get up here, girl?" Norman asked the animal gently, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "I guess the roadblock at the bottom of the steps wasn't one of my brightest ideas. I'm a future engineer for God's sakes. I should have come up with something better."

Daisy cocked her head to the side as if to say '_You're going to build me something more challenging because the chairs were kind of a letdown? I'm an incredibly smart dog so bring it on, big guy._'

Norman rolled onto his stomach with a groan, "You're not the Daisy I was hoping to wake up to. Sorry, mutt, but it's the truth."

The dog started thumping her tail on the carpeted floor, pleased that the big guy was moving around in his bed. _It's very frustrating being a dog because there's so much I want to say but I have to wait for the slow humans to figure it out_. She let out a low, soft bark in mild frustration.

Suddenly, Norman lifted his head with a fright, "You didn't wake up Sig, did you? Damn, that would be the dumbest possible thing you could do. Please tell me you didn't. I don't think I could deal with him right now. He's not thrilled you're here to begin with, he'd have a conniption fit if he knew you were upstairs."

The little lab stood up and trotted over to the doorway, pacing back and forth between the door frame. _Umm, smart dog, remember? I wish you were so smart because I'm trying to get you to pay attention to me down here_.

Norman propped himself up on his elbows and looked over at the pretty dog in the doorway, "Oh, it's not that he doesn't like you so don't take it personally. My older brother loves dogs as much as my younger brother and I do. It's just that Sig's worried about Edgar. If you have to go back to your family or if dad makes you leave, Sig's really concerned over how Edgar would take it...and so am I. I probably should have thought about that before bringing you home but tonight was one of those rare times I thought with my heart instead of my head. That's usually Edgar's gig so don't rat me out to my bros about it."

"See, my baby brother's been through absolute hell these past months and my older brother has become like an uber-protective older brother. He's not gonna let anything or anyone hurt Edgar anymore. Edgar's wanted a dog for a long time now. You're the best thing that's happened to him since Mom…"

_You are a yip-yapper, aren't you? I thought you just talked a lot on the way home to make me feel better_. In the doorway, Daisy was really starting to lose her patience. She let out a low yip, causing Norman to hold his breath and wince at the same time. _You're telling me stuff I already know. I know how badly the boy's been hurt…do you? Has he told you…everything? Come on, you are wasting time. _

Listening for an angry older brother to come stomping down the hallway, the only sounds Norman heard were the storm still raging itself out beyond his window and soft whimpers coming from Edgar's room. The latter noise caused Norman to forget all thoughts of Daisy Duke as he rolled over and sat up straight in his bed. He turned his legs to the side and put his bare feet on the floor.

Daisy took this as an excellent sign of progress and ran over to the exposed bare feet, giving the shapely toes a bath with her tongue.

Norman couldn't suppress a very unmanly giggle. "Damn," he laughed, pulling his feet up to safety, "That's tickles."

_Whatever gets you moving, big guy_. The tenacious dog ran back to the doorway, this time going out into the hallway and looking around, then coming back into the room.

"I'm guessing you have to go out…" Norman sighed.

_I already took care of that_.

"…But it sounds like my little brother is having a rough night so I gotta check on him first. Then I'll take you back downstairs."

_Whatever, just come on, let's go. I'm starting to think I should have tended to the boy myself. Maybe he just needs his face licked and then he'd go back to sleep – I could have handled THAT on my own. _Daisy had enough of waiting for Norman and wandered down the hallway towards Edgar's room.

"Hold up there, mutt," Norman called in a whisper, quickly but quietly grabbing his sweatpants and t-shirt that he slung over his desk chair before going to bed. The middle brother dressed and walked, a talent learned in his early childhood, a coping skill for living with a dad that expected his family ready in a minute's notice.

With a glance towards the opposite end of the hallway, Norman was assured that Sig was not coming to kill both him and the dog for waking him up. The eldest brother's bedroom light was off, his door open a jar and no noise coming from that direction.

_Good,_ Norman thought to himself as he followed the dog, _Sig has to get up early for work tomorrow so he needs his sleep. That and he's in pain with his wisdom teeth so he's better off not getting disturbed. If Edgar's having another rough night, I'm dealing with it this time, not Sig. Unfortunately, there are no stars to look at tonight, only endless clouds and more rain followed by the occasional lightning strike and balls of hail._

With Daisy leading the way, Norman followed her down the hallway, stopping only to turn on the bathroom light switch and send a small shaft of light into Edgar's bedroom. Making the turn back, Norman entered the large bedroom and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light.

When he could finally see, Norman was greeted to a wrestling match between Edgar and his sheets. The young teen had come close to ripping off the fitted sheet covering his bed, the remaining covers were crumbled into a ball around the lanky youngest brother. Edgar was whimpering, tossing and turning and pulling at the bandages wrapped around his hands. He had managed to dislodge several strips of gauze and the excess fabric was flapping about as he punched at imaginary figures that existed only in his dreams.

Daisy looked up at Edgar's bed and then back to Norman, finally sitting down on her backside in what could have been interpreted as a 'huff' in human body language. _See…I tried to tell you_. Patiently, she waited for Norman to respond appropriately.

"Oh, lillebror," Norman whispered sadly, his heart sinking at the sight of Edgar's inner demons winning the battle between restful, peaceful sleep and turmoil and torment. _Please let these bad dreams be because of the storm and nothing else. These bad things that happened to you cannot haunt you forever...can they? Of course, it's been less than two days since you had a loaded gun pointed at you...I can only imagine what kind of nightmares that would bring. _ The dog forgotten, the middle brother crawled into the ample bed, peeling the covers out of Edgar's death grip in the process.

Edgar stirred violently in his sleep, protesting against the entity removing his only means of protection from the monsters.

Norman easily evaded the restless boy's movements, rolling the kid onto his side and putting a strong, firm arm around him at the waist. He pulled him back smoothly, using his free hand to readjust the covers to shield them both from the cool, night air.

"Shhh," Norman whispered gently when Edgar tried to pull away, "You ain't going anywhere. I got you."

At the sound of the familiar voice, Edgar woke completely. He felt drained, like a soldier returning from the battlefield, and not like someone who'd just slept for several straight hours. _I slept but I wish I didn't. Horrible nightmares…horrible images are the only things I can remember. Sometimes, in my dreams, I get shot with that bullet instead of Adam. In other dreams, sometimes they actually kill me that night Sig saved me. _

_Either way, sometimes, the blood I see all over the floor is my own, seeping out of me and I can feel the life leaving my body. In a weird twist of fate, during other nightmares, Norman and Sig rush in to save me only to get shot and become the ones lying lifeless on the floor - that's probably the worst dream for me. _

_God, Elliot may be dead but it feels like he'll haunt me forever. Now that he's no longer in this world, he can come into mine whenever I let my guard down. _

The brawny arm surrounding his chest, the overlarge figure attached to the arm and resting behind him and the smell of Dove soap with just a hint of dryer sheet: these were the things that kept Edgar from crawling under his bed to block out the disturbing residual images. He didn't need to look back to see which brother had come, yet again, to comfort him in the middle of the night. "Norman," he said softly, like a wish that had never been wished had just come true.

"Yeah," Norman snuggled closer to his brother, "The one and only."

Edgar asked in a whisper, "Was I screaming? Is that what woke you up?"

_No_, j_ust a God damn smart dog that I have a funny feeling may not have ended up here solely by coincidence…Naw, I don't believe in that 'fate' stuff. There's no logic to it. _"No, I didn't hear any screaming."

"Because I was in my dreams. I was just screaming and screaming…screaming and calling out for help."

Norman took a second to absorb that information as it took his breath away for the moment. With a painful swallow to get rid of the lump in his throat, he whispered back, "Go back to sleep, kid. Nightmares are afraid of me…" he said as he flexed the defined muscles in the arm he had tightly wrapped around his younger brother as proof, "…so you're all good now."

Edgar clearly recognized Norman's statement was simply ridiculous; a false bravado of epic proportions told to a child that needed any kind of lifeline to hold on to. Yet, he elected to buy into the ploy. If nightmares were really afraid of someone, Norman would definitely be that someone.

The young kid snuggled closer to his brother, putting his injured hand over Norman's and squeezing weakly.

The middle brother responded in kind, hugging his brother's back to his chest and leaning his chin on the top of Edgar's head. Remembering what he had just shared with Daisy about the uber-protective older brother down the hallway, Norman recognized he was just as overprotective as Sig when it came to this traumatized kid falling asleep in his arms. _Oh, Jesus, we were always protective of him…now, things are different…and it's not just because of what's happened to him. It's because, now, we know what it feels like to lose someone you love with all your heart. It's not a foreign concept anymore, it's cold, hard reality…and it hurts so much. _

Daisy watched the interaction between the two brothers from her place on the floor. Satisfied the younger boy was in good hands with his older pack-mate, she left the room and took herself back downstairs.

Norman looked back when he heard the pitter-patter of padded paws on the steps. He listened and, upon hearing what could only be described as a flying leap from the third last step, he chuckled inwardly - One good dog.

~tbc


	55. Life's No Picnic

After working an eight hour shift, Sig came home through the garage door only to find several jumbo-size bags of dog food, brand new squeaky toys and more boxes of milk bones than there was space for in the kitchen pantry. His jaw painfully hurting, exhausted from another day of work on the sweltering docks and bills left on the kitchen table, the sight of the dog 'stuff' sent him over the edge.

In an instant, Sig was ready to chew out Norman's ass for the frivolous expenditures on a dog they weren't even sure was staying with them. The blond was so angry, he didn't care if Edgar overheard, or was even party to, the heated discussion; a good indication of how irritated he was that he'd overlook Edgar's feelings on the subject.

Sig looked around the kitchen, listening for sounds of life coming from somewhere in the house. This time, the sounds of his brothers' voices were coming from outside the house.

The terrible rain storm had finally broken, leaving Seattle with a warm summer day filled with sun, an ocean breeze and puffy white clouds overhead. So it was no surprise to Sig that his brothers were clearly taking advantage of the beautiful day.

Yet, Sig was feeling anything less than sunny. The oldest brother made a final glance around at the expensive purchases and took two steps towards the backdoor before stopping in front of the kitchen window.

Norman, Edgar and the dog were in the yard playing catch…or at least the boys were trying to teach Daisy how to play catch. Daisy more or less wanted to play keep-away, not really understanding the concept of 'retriever' as more than a dog that retrieves things for herself.

Sig watched the scene for a minute, soaking in the look of pure happiness on his youngest brother's face as he chased the dog around the yard. Edgar was laughing along with Norman and the two of them looked like they were having fun for the first time in months. Daisy looked like she was having fun as well, refusing to give up the tennis ball in her mouth without protest. _When was the last time I heard both my brothers laughing together like this? Has it been that long?_

The sight was comical and heartwarming and Sig's initial irritation at Norman's spending faded to mild annoyance with the whole situation.

The oldest brother backtracked his steps, taking advantage of his brothers' distraction and picked up the kitchen phone. As much as he didn't want to, would have given anything not to, Sig used the phone book and contacted the local newspaper. He placed an ad in the paper about the 'found' dog with a description of the animal. Leaving the home number as the contact information, Sig hung up and made his next call.

Contacting the local pound, he reported finding a stray dog and asked if anyone had called recently or come looking for a missing dog fitting Daisy's description. He couldn't really explain why he felt a small flicker of relief when the worker told him no one had contacted them regarding a lost dog like that in recent months. Again, he left the home number with the pound in the event someone called looking for the dog.

Feeling very much like the bad guy, Sig hung up the phone with a sigh. _I know someone has to do it, I just wish it was someone else. Man, how many times have I thought that over the past few weeks? It's become my personal mantra. Still, trying to find the dog's owner is the right thing to do and it's the right example to set. _

_And, if she has to leave, the sooner the better; the last thing I want is to leave for Alaska worried the whole time I'm gone that someone's finally going to realize they want their dog back. Edgar's not gonna handle my leaving well…Jesus that's an understatement…but having to give the dog back while I'm gone would be the nail in the coffin for him…Oh, bad choice of words, all things considered a few nights ago the kid almost got shot. _

The thought of his youngest brother's near death experience prompted Sig to get his sullen, miserable ass out of the kitchen and go join his family in the yard for some serious playtime. _I almost lost that kid brother of mine…not once, not twice but three times so far this summer: once on an out-of-control motor bike, once to a brutal beating for something he didn't do and once to a bullet. _

_And I almost lost the other one to an infected appendix. And what have I learned from these experiences – to make the most of the time I have with the people I love because you never know what's around the next corner. Mom's death should have taught me that, instead I had to keep getting the lesson handed to me over and over before it sunk in._

* * *

Seeing their oldest brother coming out of the back door and down the steps, both Norman and Edgar stopped in mid-play. Daisy looked confused, wondering why playtime abruptly ended.

"Did anyone think about dinner?" Sig asked, pretending to sound gruff. He approached the yard with lengthy strides of his long legs, unbuttoning his work shirt and stripping down to his white cotton t-shirt.

Norman huffed, sitting his large frame down on the picnic table "Of course we did. I've been thinking about food for the past hour."

"And in all this thinking," Sig asked, "Did you actually end up doing something about it?" He casually leaned over and pretended to check the garden hose for mysterious leaks.

"Norman made anti-pasta and fresh salad," Edgar said softly, coming to his older brother's defense, "It's in the fridge. We were waiting for you." The shaggy-haired teen made his way over to Norman, ready to sit down next to him on the table.

Daisy looked back and forth between the two oldest brothers, dropping the gooey tennis ball out of her mouth and expecting a fight to break out. She could feel the tension in the air. _Something's coming…something bad?_

"I'm glad you waited," Sig said slowly, "Cause now I can do this…" With lightning quick speed, he turned on the hose and reached for the nozzle, pointing it in Norman's direction.

Norman knew better than to fall for this trick. With equally quick speed, he reached out and grabbed his skinny younger brother. Placing Edgar directly in front of him as a human shield, Norman laughed and screamed, "Don't, he can't get his hands wet."

Sig had to pause, the nozzle held firmly in his hand and his finger on the trigger. "Get out of the way, Edgar," he laughed with a wide smile, "Norman needs a bath. I can smell him from here."

"I do not," Norman whined defensively, peaking around his little brother's shoulder to glare at Sig, "You stink from working at the docks, jerk. You're the one that needs a bath."

Norman's hands on both of his arms and holding him in place, Edgar stared at his oldest brother. Sig was too busy trying to find a way to blast Norman with the hose to notice the kid's eyes had gone blank and devoid of any emotion.

What should have been a fun game, a game they had played a hundred times as children, warped Edgar to a different time and place. There was someone standing before him, holding something that looked like a gun and it was pointed in his direction. It didn't matter that the someone holding the 'trigger' was one of the people that loved him most in the world. All Edgar could see was those yellowish-green, cat-like eyes driving a hole in his heart with utter hatred.

"**NOOOO!**" Edgar closed his eyes to block out the sight and screamed with such intensity that Sig stopped breathing. The young teenager pulled away from Norman with a strength that shocked and surprised the middle brother, breaking free of his tight grip with remarkable ease.

Edgar panicked, seeking refuge in the first available location and flinging himself under the picnic table before either of his brothers had a chance to react. He huddled himself under the table, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his bent legs. In his mind, he was no longer in the safety of his backyard; he was at the Shack, hiding underneath a poker table and listening for the sounds of gunshots to ring out above him.

Sig and Norman were left staring at each other, both stone-faced and stunned by their youngest brother's extreme and unexpected overreaction.

Still holding the hose and pointing it at Norman's chest, Sig dropped his gaze and glared at the nozzle in his right hand. He immediately recognized that it looked like he was holding a gun, minus the lime green coloring of the plastic and the grass-green hose attached to the bottom of it.

Although he was not the genius Norman was, it didn't take Sig more than a few seconds to figure out what just went wrong. _I just wanted to play…I just wanted to have fun for a while with my brothers. I didn't mean to terrify my kid brother and make him relive traumatic events. The same fucking thing happened in the bathroom the day after his hands were beaten. He freaked out about the sound of the belt jingling. Now, he's freaking out about a garden hose. What's next? He can't go on like this…we can't go on like this_

Norman took those few seconds to stare at the barrel of a gun-like object being directed at his chest and closed his eyes, imaging how he would feel if a real gun was being pointed at him. Although it was just his imagination, Norman felt a true sense of dread and panic, the need to fight or flee rising up instantaneously and he identified with Edgar's overreaction. _Shit, I'd be hiding under the table, too, if that was a real gun. _

While the older boys were trying to make sense of the strange turn of events, Daisy reacted without hesitation. She didn't need to figure out the whys and what-ifs, as those were human obstacles. She just knew that her 'boy' was in distress so she plunged right in, assisting the only way she knew how.

Running under the table, she came to a stop and sat down next to Edgar, trying to wiggle her muzzle in between his knees and head. _Let me kiss you. I will lick your face and you'll feel better, promise. Just look up. I'm right here. I'd never let anything hurt you. _

Ultimately, Sig threw the hose from his hand and let it fall to the grass with a muted thud. Powerwalking over to the picnic table, he glanced at Norman before kneeling down at the end of the pressure-treated wood and adding grass stains to the oil and paint on his work pants.

Norman glanced back at him. The two older brothers non-verbally communicated loads of understanding and knowledge in that one single look between them: _You understand what's going on here? Yes, do you? Yes. I get it - I understand how scared he was then and why he's so scared now. I need your help. You never have to ask. _

Hopping off the table, Norman joined Sig on the ground, kneeling next to his brother. They both looked into the darkness created by the shadow of the table and could make out a frightened kid and a protective dog mashed together like a sandwich. Edgar was rocking back and forth slightly, his eyes still pressed against his knees to block out the bad memories. Daisy had given up on trying to kiss the boy's face and had to be satisfied with resting her chin on his shoulder and pressing her body next to his.

The presence of the dog was what brought Edgar back to reality. The night of the gun fight there had been no dogs at the Shack. Therefore, the presence of one now was an anchor to the present moment. The kid was still scared, more so because of his reaction to an innocuous event than being reminded of what almost happened to him. Along with the fear, he was humiliated to find himself hiding under a table in his own back yard with his older, tougher brothers looking on.

"I'm…" Sig started gently, having to pause to clear his throat. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to the figure huddled under the table, "I just wanted…"

Taking full responsibility, Norman cut his older brother off. "It's my fault," he said in a voice that sounded stronger than he really felt, "I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I…I forgot…what you've been through…I wasn't thinking."

The older brothers gave Edgar a few moments to respond or at least acknowledge them in some way. Instead, all they got was the top of Edgar's buried head and a few whimpers coming from both parties under the table.

Another look passed between Norman and Sig, this one much more desperate than the first.

The middle brother took the lead on the situation and tried his usual tactic. "But, Christ, little bro, have you been working out or something? Where the hell did that burst of strength come from? I can't ever remember you being able to get away from me without resorting to fighting dirty, like getting Sig to help you or threatening to pull my ear."

Sig couldn't contain a soft chuckle, "I'm so glad I taught you that trick, Edgar. As a little kid, it was your only method of escape from the He-Man we call our brother."

"Someday, Edgar," Norman ignored Sig, "I'll return the favor and tell you about Sig's weaknesses. Would you like that?" The muscular seventeen-year-old looked at his older brother out of the corner of his eye. Rightly so, Sig seemed confused. He had no weaknesses that he knew of so how could Norman possibly know about something that didn't exist.

Sig opened his mouth to argue over the blatant lie when Norman slapped him lightly on the arm without looking in his direction. Finally getting the idea of the joke, the blond decided to play along. "Oh please," he said in a high pitched voice, at least as high as he could force his deep voice to go, "Don't tell the kid that I'm…" he struggled to come up with something believable but it's difficult to fake things with someone that knows your entire life story…most of it, anyway.

Norman smiled wickedly, watching Sig struggle for a funny comeback. Deciding he'd floor his older brother with the truth, he casually finished Sig's statement. "…afraid of clowns."

Literally bowled over, Sig slipped off his knees and onto his backside in the plush green grass. Slowly, just like in a movie, he turned and glared at Norman with piercing blue eyes that were filled with disbelief. _HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT? I'VE NEVER TOLD A SOUL, NOT EVEN MOM._

Despite the serious situation, Norman's insides were rolling with laughter. The revenge was so sweet he could taste it. _You think I don't remember that circus Mom took us to when we were very little? I remember you hiding underneath the bleachers when Mom wasn't looking. You were as white as the painted clown trying to splash you with that empty bucket. I've held onto this precious information for over TEN years – who ever said revenge is a dish best served cold was damn right._

"Sooo," Norman spoke with a sly voice, "Just dress up like a clown and Sig will leave you alone. The knowledge has some advantages, like if you ever get in big trouble and got a lickin' coming your way, you just pull out your clown suit and you're golden. You could avoid a sore backside for days…maybe even weeks, if you play your cards right."

As the 'play your cards right' analysis came up, Sig's eyes went from disbelief to an incredulous narrowing of his eyelids. He smacked his younger brother on the leg for the unintentional and eye-roll-worthy pun.

Norman wondered why he just got smacked when the meaning behind the pun hit him a second later. _Well, that was pretty stupid. Kid's down here hiding because of playing his cards right…or wrong, depending on how you look at it_. Apologetically he looked at his blond brother, momentarily forgetting his triumph about Sig's clown-phobia before remembering its official name.

"Coulrophobia," Norman announced proudly, "That's what it's called. Sig has Coulrophobia. I looked it up once in the high school's library."

"No doubt so you could use it against me one day, when the time was just right," Sig groused, "But let's not forget there are other people in this family with a laundry list of phobias. You want to talk about what those are called?"

"Ahh, no," Norman said sheepishly.

Sig peered at the boy huddled under the table. Edgar still hadn't acknowledged them or the dog, refusing to even lift his head or make eye contact. As far as Norman and Sig could tell, Edgar hadn't even laughed or shrugged at their playful bantering, all done for his benefit.

"Hey Edgar," Sig asked his baby brother, "What do you call it when someone's afraid of small spaces, being trapped, heights AND spiders?"

Holding their breath, both older brothers waited for some kind of answer…anything…a witty retort or even a defensive statement on Norman's behalf. Yet, they got nothing. The kid continued to shake, rocking back and forth and ignoring the persistent dog next to him.

_I'll do it. Why not?_ Norman had set himself up to be teased; he figured he might as well pull the trigger. "Ab-Norm-ALL." Both older brothers winced and rolled their eyes at the pathetic zinger. All they needed was a 'ba-dum-dum-dum' and long cane coming from stage right.

Regardless of the comic routine, Edgar remained frozen in place and still hadn't even glanced at his brothers' handsome faces and concerned looks aimed at him from the table's edge.

Sig and Norman were beyond being worried at this point. Sure, the both of them could easily move the table away and expose their youngest brother to the rest of the world. But the fear that the boy might panic even further stopped the notion of such an aggressive move.

"Ed," Norman lowered his voice and tone, speaking gently, "Look at us, will ya?" For the first time, a hint of desperation came out with the question.

Still nothing.

Norman anxiously glanced over at Sig. He was surprised to find his oldest brother's jaw muscles flexed tightly, like the tallest Hansen was debating over an idea. Then, he watched Sig square up his shoulders, raising himself up to his full height, at least as much as he could on his knees.

In a soft but stern voice full of authority, Sig said, "Edgar, your brother asked you to do something. Do not be rude and ignore him. Answer him…NOW!"

Pulling back, Norman glared at Sig and wondered if his oldest brother was about to lose his famous temper. The blond voice was authoritative and commanding and Norman was flabbergasted that Sig was taking this road. Before he had a chance to worry about a petrified little brother on one hand and a furious, screaming brother on the other, Sig slumped down and lost his 'in-charge' look.

The oldest brother glanced at Norman as if to say: _I have to try something._

And the something worked. Something about that tone and those stern words prompted Edgar to finally look up and over his knees at his big brothers. Daisy was thrilled to finally have access to the boy's face and went about licking Edgar's left cheek like he had forgotten to wipe off a dab of peanut butter from the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," Edgar whispered hoarsely, "I don't know what happened." The boy's bottom lip started quivering as he emotionally moved passed panic, fear and humiliation to just plain confusion and embarrassment. He reached out and wrapped an arm around the dog, petting her soft fur and effectively stopping the dog bath he was receiving. "It was like I was back there…and you weren't you…and someone was…gonna hurt me. I'm sorry for acting like a…"

"Don't be sorry," Sig smiled fully, relief washing over him now that he felt he had his littlest brother back with him. For a few brief but tense minutes, it was like Edgar had mentally left them. "Don't ever be sorry."

"Come out, kid," Norman said encouragingly, "Sig can wield a paddle but he couldn't hit the side of a barn with that hose. You're all right but I'm starving. Dinner's waiting for all of us now."

"Then we can take Dai…the dog…for a walk," Sig slipped and came close to calling the mutt by her new name.

"I'm grounded," Edgar reminded Sig without a hint of attitude or resentment.

Sig rolled his eyes, feeling like Edgar was taking this grounding to heart and willing to chain himself to the house to prove to his oldest brother that he could be trusted again. "We're all going. You go where we go."

"Yeah," Norman held out his hand under the table, casually offering it to Edgar, "And I'm hungry so we ALL have to go to the kitchen. You know," he chirped to Sig, "Edgar told me about this new rule this morning. I kinda like it. It's like I have a permanent assistant at the hardware store.

"God knows you need all the help you can get, Ab-Norm-ALL," Sig said as he offered his hand out as well.

Norman got his back up, "Hey, that was a onetime thing. NO MORE Now!"

Very lightly, Edgar took both offered hands and scooted his backside along the grass until he was free from the safety of the picnic table. Daisy pranced her way out, running over and picking up the tennis ball with a hearty wagging of her long tail.

Once out, Norman and Sig stood their little brother up by his armpits and set him on his feet. Holding onto Edgar's arm, Sig used his free hand and brushed the grass clippings off the seat of his brother's jeans, adding a love tap for good measure and then pulling the kid into a tight, strong embrace.

Edgar hugged him back, burying his face into his brother's bare shoulder and feeling the single, one-inch strip of fabric from Sig's t-shirt on his cheek.

Norman reached out and stroked the back of Edgar's hair, running his hand over the kid's neck and leaving it on his thin shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

The three of them didn't need to say anything. They each knew what happened, although Edgar was a little slow in admitting it to himself. They just didn't know how to prevent it from happening again…and that scared the three of them more than any personal phobias ever could.

* * *

Disappointed the game of fetch ended so suddenly, Daisy followed the boys back into the house. She was walking very cautiously, trailing behind them and hoping they wouldn't turn around, see her and banish her back to the yard. Instead, she ended up back in the house with fresh bowls of kibble and water, a few ice cubes included in the water bowl. From her vantage point, she couldn't tell which of the boys gave her the ice cubes but she found chasing the melting ice as it slid around the linoleum kitchen floor a terrific new game to play.

Dinner was a mundane affair, the usual discussions took place and everyone helped clean up in their own way. A long walk, a happy dog and a Saturday night baseball game on the TV later, Edgar was sent up to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Sig relented and allowed the dog to follow him, figuring he'd come and get the dog out of Edgar's room after he fell asleep.

Finally, Sig would have a chance to talk to Norman alone. He'd been too annoyed with him the night before to discuss anything and now there were bigger issues to go over. To his frustration, he had to wait until Norman got off the phone with Amanda. Norman had been on the kitchen phone with his girlfriend for the last hour, ignoring the baseball game and his brothers.

As he and Edgar had watched the game, Sig tried not to listen in but he couldn't help but overhear some bits and pieces of the conversation. Some of these snippets sounded like there was a plan being concocted for tomorrow evening.

Before Edgar got up off the sofa to head upstairs, he leaned over and whispered in Sig's ear, "Did you tell Norman I smoked a cigarette?"

"No," Sig whispered back and left it at that. This time, he figured that was a confidence between Edgar and himself. _My kid brother admitted he broke the smoking rule, although that was probably the one thing he could have gotten away with, and he was punished for it. Personally, I'm freaking done with the incident and I'm putting the past behind us. Maybe I should explain that to Edgar before…_

Sig didn't have time to explain. Edgar slipped off the sofa and was halfway up the steps before Sig had time to justify his silence on the smoking issue.

With Edgar gone, Sig flipped off the TV and went into the kitchen.

With his big brother hovering conspicuously at the kitchen sink, Norman covered his mouth with his free hand and whispered private thoughts he hoped only Amanda could hear.

"I miss you so much, baby."

"I know," Amanda said in a sweet, feminine voice, "I miss you, too."

"I think about you ALL the time."

Amanda huffed playfully, "Even when you're in your room staring at all those poster girls with the big boobies taped to your walls?"

Norman sighed, "Especially then."

"Ugh," Amanda moaned, "That's just disgusting."

"I'll take 'em down if you want me to," Norman honestly offered, knowing full well this amazing girl on the other line had him wrapped around her little finger.

"You keep 'em up," Amanda spoke confidently, "They don't intimidate me."

"Why should they?" Norman's voice grew deeper, softer, "They are nothing compared to you."

"God," Amanda rolled her eyes, "You are such a sweet-talker sometimes."

Sig nonchalantly brushed passed his brother on the way to the refrigerator, purposefully nudging him out of the way with an overly exaggerated sigh of waiting frustration. _Damn, you've had all day to make mushy talk with your girlfriend and yous two have been at it for over an hour. There's shit we need to talk about, Norman. Come on! Edgar's gonna wonder why we haven't come up yet. _

Norman took the hint, eyeing his older brother with mild disgust. He turned and huddled himself against the corner of the kitchen walls. "Seven o'clock?"

"Yeah," Amanda agreed, "We'll try it. No guarantees. You know how my dad is."

"Alright," Norman said hopefully. He grew quiet, whispering in the barest of voices, "I love you."

"I love you," Amanda whispered back, "I can't wait until we're together again."

"MMMMM," Norman hummed with such intense longing, his testicles tightened and he wished he could warp through the phone and make love to his girlfriend for the next three days.

"See ya, Norman."

_I love the way she says my name. I'll never get tired of hearing her say it_. "See ya, baby."

With a dejected exhale out of his mouth, Norman pushed the hook and sadly hung up the phone. He turned back around and came nose-to-chin with his older brother.

"WHAT is happening at seven o'clock tomorrow?" Sig asked with his forearms crossed in front of his chest. He did a phenomenal job of looking intimidating, standing over his shorter, younger brother and acting mildly accusatory.

"Um," Norman was literally backed into a corner and his only means of escape were effectively blocked, "About that…"

Sig smiled wide, a twinkle in his eyes and dropped the stern façade, backing up a few steps. He playfully pushed passed his brother and grabbed two sodas from out of the refrigerator. He handed one off to Norman and tilted his head in the direction of the porch.

Norman relaxed, realizing Sig was just kidding with the parental accusation. He gladly took the offered soda and followed Sig outside. Daisy came bounding down the steps when she heard the backdoor open. She was outside quicker than the boys, preferring to utilize the backyard as opposed to the newspaper on the garage floor.

While Daisy took care of her needs, Norman asked gruffly, "I'm not hanging around out here if you're smoking."

"Naw," Sig stated as he sat down on the top step of the porch, "I'll wait until you leave." He looked up and slyly smiled at his meaty brother. Then he patted the other half of the top step and indicated Norman should take a load off.

Daisy interpreted the gesture to mean she was welcomed to sit next to the tall one so she clambered up the steps and took a seat. Panting, she turned her muzzle directly to Sig's face and gave him a solid whiff of dog breath.

"Oh my God," Sig winced at the smell, "I forgot how bad that smells."

"Like kibble and soggy tennis ball."

"And God knows what else."

_What? It's not like I can brush my own teeth. _

"Pet her, Sig," Norman said from behind them, looking at the back of his tall brother and the little Labrador sitting hopefully next to him.

Sig looked over his shoulder and shot Norman a glare, relenting a moment later and began stroking the dog from the top of her head all the way down to the top of her rear. Daisy thumped her tail and snuggled closer to the biggest brother. _Alright, you're a pretty cool dog, I'll admit it…only to myself. It's like you belong here, like you were meant to be here_. "I called the pound today…and the newspaper. We'll try to find her family…for two weeks. That's it. Then it's all on Dad if she stays or goes."

_YES!_ Norman managed to squeeze his way in between the porch post and the skinny dog, sitting down and sipping his root beer. _Here I am. I got my big bro, my best friend and my partner in crime. I got a great dog. My baby brother's a mess but I think we're sitting outside so we can talk about a plan for a few minutes while he's not listening so, hopefully, we'll get that worked out. My girl loves me and I'll get to see her real soon, if I'm lucky. I have a great summer job and an awesome truck. Mom…well, let's not think about that. Other than that, I have everything…except a beer. I'd love a beer right about now. Warm summer night. Hanging outside on the porch. What do I got…a Root Beer. _

"Seven o'clock?…" Sig asked as he scratched the dog behind her left ear.

Norman was pulled out of his silent contemplations. "We're gonna take the dog for a walk...the three of us."

"We already did that.'

"No. Tomorrow. At seven o'clock."

"Really," Sig's pitch rose higher with questioning, "How do we know the dog will need to go for a walk tomorrow at exactly seven o'clock?"

"Well," Norman said carefully, "We're just going to casssuallly walk passed Amanda's house with the dog at exactly seven o'clock. Annnddd, if her and her family just happens to be outside barbequing at that exact same moment, well…won't that be a funny coincidence, huh?" He finished his line of thinking with a shrug of feigned indifference.

Sig shook his head and hid a smile, "Let me get this straight. We're going to DRIVE the dog over to Amanda's neighborhood and THEN take her for a walk passed Amanda's house."

Norman nodded.

"Jesus, you ARE desperate, aren't you?" Sig asked flatly.

Norman launched into a full explanation only to get interrupted, "I need you to talk to her dad, Sig…"

"ME?" Sig raised his voice an octave and pointed to his chest.

"Yes…YOU," Norman stated emphatically, "I need you to be all 'Super Parent' and talk her dad into letting her and her sister come to the lake for 4th of July. You can show him that an 'adult' will be present and in charge the entire time and that it won't just be a bunch of teenagers hanging around, getting drunk and making out."

"Although that last part is EXACTLY what you plan on doing while you're there," Sig confronted his younger brother.

Norman stared at his brother, devoid of expression, "Ah, yeah, of course."

"You're freaking nuts if you think her dad is gonna let those girls go," Sig said with a sanctimonious tone, "You know better than me how he is."

"I do," Norman began pleading, "That's why I'm bringing you over there…so to speak…to talk to him. Once he talks to you, firm handshakes and all that 'dad' shit…and sees you're an awesome guardian...or parent or whatever the hell you are this summer…and he'll see he has nothing to worry about."

Sig came close to snorting root beer through his nose.

Norman ignored the implied sarcasm, "Come on, Sig…please…just try. Please, just do this…for me. Please…"

Recovering, Sig swallowed his root beer and turned wide eyes in Norman's direction, "Can I just point out that only two nights ago YOU told me to drop the 'Mike Brady' act. Now, you want to put my 'act' on display in front of the man that may someday be your future father-in-law just so you can get a little quality alone time with your girlfriend at the lake?"

Nodding vigorously, Norman confirmed Sig's spot-on assessment of the proposed plan, "That pretty much sums it up."

"Do you understand what you are asking of me?" Sig grew serious, "You are asking me to tell this man his daughters will be safe in my hands, under MY watch. That's a lot of damn responsibility I'm taking on. What happens if…well, you know."

"What?"

"I don't know, Norman…" Sig tried to explain, "…something like Amanda gets pregnant and has a baby exactly nine months from 4th of July weekend. Her father would kill me…literally."

"Sig, I'm pretty sure he'd kill me first."

"Then Edgar would be an only child."

"Come on," Norman lowered his voice to a whisper, "We are always careful. You know that."

Sig pondered the crazy idea in silence.

Norman held his breath.

The oldest brother was close to telling Norman to stop dreaming and come back to Earth when he paused and really listened to what his brother was asking of him. _It's sort of a compliment in a strange way. Norm thinks I'm worthy enough to be deemed worthy enough by the ex-marine turned hard-nosed father of two teenage girls. If that man thinks I pass for a fine, upstanding man who can take care of his two precious angels, then maybe I'm not doing such a crappy job at this guardian business. More than just putting myself out there to be judged, I owe it to Norman to at least try. Countless times this summer, my younger brother has stepped up with Edgar when I've fallen completely apart. If he really wants me to do this, I can at least give it my best shot. _

Norman was about to start begging when Sig finally spoke up.

"Fine."

"Really?" Norman asked, shocked at how easy it was to convince Sig to go along with this scheme.

"I'm not making any promises," Sig looked doubtful and stared at Norman, letting him see the doubt on his face, "So don't get your hopes up but…I'll talk to the man."

"No worries," Norman reassured his brother, "I have complete faith that you will make a good impression on him.

"We'll see," Sig cocked an eyebrow, "But if I tell this man that his daughters are going to be safe and he trusts me enough to allow them to come, that means you better keep your dick in your pants at all times. You wanna get some action, you do it under someone else's watch…not mine. GOT IT?"

It was a difficult request…no, order…to accept for a horny, love-struck seventeen year old male who'd been without for months due to illness and other restrictions. Yet, Norman understood what his older brother was saying. _Sig's putting his neck out there for me. Amanda and I can wait a little longer for that stuff…plus, there's more than one way to satisfy one's urges. Honestly, I just want to hold her and kiss her and have her with me._ "Alright," he said, acknowledging the command and accepting the verdict.

Sig leaned over the dog and stared his brother down, "Promise me, bro. And not just because of Mr. Winchester, either. There will be kids present; our little brother, Amanda's little sister…Nick's little brother."

"Promise," Norman stared back with direct eye contact, vividly recalling the look of horror on Edgar's face when he accidently walked in on him and Amanda getting frisky in the bathroom.

"I'm holding you to this," Sig sat back straight but maintained the eye contact between them, "I know what it's like to want to be with your girlfriend."

_I know that you do. I'm just sorry that the one you fell in love with turned out to be a bitch._ "Thanks," Norman said quietly, lifting his hand to touch his brother's shoulder, hesitating and pulling it back. He stroked Daisy under her chin instead. "Thanks for doing this for me."

"Norman, I'd do anything for you," Sig said softly, bowing his head and looking down at his feet. The words sort of slipped out unintentionally but Sig meant every word. Mentally, he chalked up saying them to living by the code.

The middle brother closed his eyes, thinking of the many ways he would have liked to respond to the heartfelt statement but deciding they were all too 'girly' sounding. _I know you love me. Even when we are really, really mad at each other, I still know. _

"So," Sig popped his head up, his voice returning to normal, "The kid."

"Yeah, what the hell was that tonight?" Norman was grateful for the change of topic. "I mean, I know what happened and I think I know why but…what the fuck?"

"You still think a therapist is a bad idea?" Sig asked with sincerity.

Pursing his lips together, the logical side of Norman's thinking took over, "No, I think he needs to see someone. The nightmares are getting worse and, now, this reaction with the hose and hiding under the damn picnic table. I'm only worried about how he'd react to the idea."

"We'll explain everything to him," Sig inwardly laughed at his own words. _Don't I always explain everything to him before it happens?_ "We'll sit down and have a long talk with him and tell him why we…WE…think this is what is best for him. And, whether he likes it or not, he has to at least try to talk to someone about EVERYTHING." _I have to do what is best for my kid brother. He may not always like it or agree with me, but he has to do what I tell him, especially when it comes to his well-being. And that's the end of that. Decision made_.

"Dad?" Norman questioned.

"Just another thing to add to the list of things he and I need to discuss."

Daisy's ears perked up, like perhaps she herself was already on that long list.

_That's he and 'us', Sig_. "Money?"

"I'll find a way."

"When are you gonna call?"

"Monday," Sig answered, rubbing at the pain in his jaw "After work."

"Good," Norman stated, then asked, "How's your teeth?"

"You gonna ask me that every day now?" Sig said with a sigh.

"Well," Norman stood up, ready to run, "If you'd put your class ring back on, I'd know that you were still in pain and I can stop asking."

Sig's shoulders drooped as he got blindsided with the reminder of his ring. "Norman…" he started, prepared to chide his brother for bringing it up.

"Hey, a guy has to try, right?" Norman said as he called the dog with a pat of his hand against his massive thigh and opened the back door, slipping away and allowing his brother his privacy to smoke. _I'm not giving up on that ring_.

* * *

By the time Sig locked up for the night and went upstairs, Norman, Edgar and Daisy were all curled up together in Edgar's bed, watching re-runs of All In The Family. Edgar's sore hands had been re-bandaged by his older brother, the nightly routine becoming monotonous and frustrating for all of them.

He stopped in the room and smiled to himself. It was a pleasing sight, the three of them together. Standing by the head of the bed, Sig looked over and asked Norman, "You staying?"

"Yup," the middle brother replied.

Edgar shifted his eyes upwards to his oldest brother, "I told him he didn't need to but he just barged in and made himself comfortable." _And I'm not really sure why I'm complaining about it because I want one of you to stay with me. I guess I'm just putting on the 'tough' act because I don't want you two to see me as a baby. But, I'm scared…and I don't know why. It's over…I keep telling myself it's over. They're dead. So why is this stuff still haunting me? _

"You want me to kick him out?" Sig asked with a grin, "I could send him to his room. I always wanted to do that."

"I'll bet," Norman blurted out under his breath.

"No," Edgar answered firmly, "Don't send Norman to his room. He can stay. It's alright."

"OoooK," Sig said slowly, "But if he starts snoring, you can't say I didn't try." Satisfied his kid brother was in good hands (and paws), Sig turned to leave.

"Wait," Edgar called after him, "Please come back…for just a minute."

Sig turned back around and sat on the edge of the bed. He caught a quick glimpse of Norman's apprehensive expression and then focused solely on Edgar. Norman sat up, trying not to disturb the snoring dog squished between them and flipped off the TV. Clearly Archie and Edith were not nearly as important as whatever was about to come out of Edgar's mouth.

When the room grew quiet, Edgar had to find his courage again to continue. Eventually, with both older brothers staring at him, he bowed his shaggy head and spoke low, "Norman, I wanted to tell you this all day."

Sig had a good feeling he knew what was coming next. He kept silent about his suspicions but he believed that if he was correct, he was going to handle this time around very differently than the last.

Edgar glanced over his eyelashes at Sig, his face filled with shame and silently asking for support. _I couldn't tell Norman this without you here. It's not that I'm afraid of our brother but…last time he found out about this…well, it didn't go over so well. _

"It's OK, kid," Sig said softly, nodding his encouragement and placing his hand on Edgar's leg over the bedspread. Gently, he rubbed up and down lightly over the fabric. "Get it off your chest if you need to. You'll feel better."

Norman didn't want this seriousness atmosphere that suddenly encompassed the room, nor did he want to hear bad news, "Edgar, you don't have to tell me I'm the best big brother in the world for finding this dog and bringing her home. I already know I'm the best."

"I smokedacigarette," Edgar announced hurriedly, rushing on, "When I was at the Shack two nights ago. I'm sorry, Norman. I know how much you hate it." _There…it's out 'n the open_. He then proceeded to study the small stitch work pattern of his comforter.

Sig shifted his blue eyes over towards their middle brother, attempting to gage his reaction to Edgar's confession.

Surprisingly, Norman seemed unfazed, at least on the surface. "You knew," he asked Sig and pointedly ignoring Edgar for the moment.

Sig nodded, refusing to apologize for not divulging the information.

"And you explained why smoking at his age…any age, for that matter…is a dangerous, disgusting habit that will eventually kill you if you don't stop?" Norman asked flatly, a slight edge to his voice.

"Um, yes, at some point and time, he and I have had that discussion," Sig answered, adding the following important reminder, "And he was punished for breaking the rule again…and I forgave his mistake." The tall blond could only hope Norman would be as forgiving. If not, he was ready to really order Norman to his room for a long 'time-out.' _You're not raking him over the coals again like you did last time. Mom's good mixing bowl is safely put away in the kitchen cabinet for the evening. Its services will not be needed_.

Edgar stayed perfectly still, letting his brothers talk about him like he wasn't even there and not making a case for his defense. It seemed that his oldest brother was doing a fine enough job without him.

After what seemed like a lengthy wait, Norman turned to his younger brother and simply asked, "You remember what said about how my brothers smoking makes me feel…what it does to my heart?"

The young teen remembered very well, so well, in fact, that he felt the tears coming on at the thought of hurting his older brother like this again. He couldn't find his voice so he nodded and kept his eyes locked on his knees.

Norman eyed his little brother carefully. The boy looked positively guilt-riddened and on the verge of crying. _We've had enough tears this summer_. "NO MORE," he stated emphatically, unsure if he meant the tears or smoking.

Edgar naturally assumed it was about the smoking, "No more, Norman, I swear." He looked passionately over at Norman, practically pleading to be believed.

"Don't swear," Norman stated as he slid down the bed and turned on his side, fluffing the pillow behind him, "And don't make me any promises. Just don't do it again." Settling into the mattress, he grumbled to his oldest brother, "Turn out the light…and leave the bathroom light on."

Sig took that as his cue to leave. In his opinion, Norman took the news better than expected and he could go to bed without worrying that their middle brother would strangle Edgar in his sleep. "Goodnight, then," he said, standing up and carding his hand through Edgar's hair.

Although he didn't get the forgiveness he was seeking, Edgar sighed with relief and mouthed a "Thank you" in Sig's direction.

Sig smiled and, for the first time, leaned down and kissed Edgar on the top of his head before leaving. He turned off the bedroom light, turned on the bathroom light and closed the door, preparing to brush his teeth. Only when the toothbrush hit the back of his gums did he start to cry from the pain he'd been feeling all day. The tears that fell came from actual physical pain and he whimpered softly as he tried to accomplish the simple task. It took forever and, when he was done, he sat down and tried to mentally block out the pain.

Back in the darkness of Edgar's room, the youngest brother couldn't stop himself from asking, "You mad?"

"Yes…" Norman said sleepily, "But I'll get over it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I got an extra lick of the paddle for it," Edgar whispered.

Norman rolled over onto his other side, facing his little brother and a warm dog, "No, that does NOT make me feel any better. If anything, it makes me feel worse. Why'd ya gotta tell me all this, anyway? I think I was happier not knowing."

"Don't know," Edgar caught Norman's gaze out of the corner of his eye, "I just don't want there to be any more secrets between us."

"Don't smoke anymore and then you won't have to worry about keeping it a secret."

Edgar flinched ever so slightly at Norman's quick comeback, "You want to leave?"

"Never," Norman released the edginess in his voice and whispered back, "Now go to sleep." He reached over the dog and stroked Edgar's cheek before retracting his hand and shoving it under his pillow.

" 'K " Satisfied, Edgar rolled onto his side and curled up with Daisy.

By the time Sig came back, he didn't have the heart to chase the dog back downstairs so he left her there. Trudging down the hallway, the oldest Hansen found his own bed. He had taken three Extra Strength Tylenols and could only hope they would dull the pain enough to get him through the night.

* * *

"Why are we here?" Edgar asked inside the parked truck, "And why is Sig so dressed up just to take the dog for a walk?"

It was 6:55 pm Sunday evening and the three boys, along with an anxious dog, sat inside Norman's truck as it was parked down the block from the Winchester residence.

Sig had come home from work, ate a quick meal with his brothers and readied himself for what felt like a blind date with an older man. He showered, shaved and put on his best dress shirt and dark blue slacks. For reasons he couldn't explain, he even added a splash of cologne to his smooth face and neck.

Edgar hadn't questioned the idea of taking the dog for a drive, knowing how much the canine species loved to hang their heads out car windows. He'd only begun wondering what was going on when the truck got parked in a familiar neighborhood about ten minutes from their house. That wasn't that much of a drive for Daisy to enjoy the wind in her muzzle.

Perceptive young teen that he was, Edgar could feel the nervousness coming off both his older brothers, particularly Norman. The middle brother had also showered, shaved but dressed casually, wearing a red collared shirt and a clean pair of dark denim jeans.

"What ARE we doing here, Norman?" Sig asked in a bittersweet voice. _You try and explain this one to the kid_.

Norman gnawed at the inside of his lip, struggling for a plausible answer. Finally, he asked Edgar, "Would you like Sally to come to the lake for July 4th?"

"Guess so," Edgar shrugged, trying to act blasé about the cute blond girl. In truth, he very much wanted Sally to go with them to the lake, more so than his best friend, Matt.

"Then, for once, don't ask questions and just follow our lead," Norman commanded, grasping Daisy's leash and opening the truck door. Daisy jumped off Norman's lap onto the sidewalk, excited that they were finally going somewhere. Norman got out and shut the door behind him.

Edgar turned towards his oldest brother. He couldn't help but still ask questions, "What's going on?"

"Love, little brother," Sig shook his head as he put his hand on the driver's side door handle. "Guys do strange things for love."

Norman had timed his plan perfectly. As the three boys rounded the corner, they approached a large Colonial style brick house with a ground-level wooden deck off to the side. Amanda, her father, her mother and her little sister were sitting at the outdoor table, a blue jumbo patio umbrella coming up from the middle of the glass table and shielding them from the sun's rays. The smell of BBQ chicken and butter-slathered corn-on-the-cob was in the summer air and the family seemed to be relishing in their dinner and each other's company.

Sig, Norman and Edgar paused for a second, standing still on the sidewalk like silent observers and watching the scene. This was something that they used to have, something they had all their lives, something that was suddenly and unexpectedly taken away from them; a complete family unit.

Mrs. Winchester, an older but lovely version of her younger blond daughter, laughed good-naturedly as the family's cat jumped up on the table. The soft, feminine laughter, so pure and honest, was like a dagger for each boy, a piercing reminder of what once was and could no longer be for them.

Daisy only noticed the enticing aroma of chicken and the sneaky white Persian cat that looked like he might be getting some. She pulled hard on her leash, catching Norman off guard and getting away from them.

"Shit," Norman exclaimed as the leash slipped out of his hand.

The three boys chased after the small, cream-colored Labrador, calling her name. Daisy had other plans. She ran across the perfectly manicured lawn and came to a grinding halt at the low railing surrounding the cherry-stained wooden deck. Spying the cat, Daisy barked incessantly, attempting to warn the family of the cat's stealthy and manipulative ways.

The fluffy white cat hissed from the table, showing off his sharp teeth and pink tongue. Then, the fur ball decided the dog wasn't worth the effort, the loud barking too annoying for his ears, and ran back into the house.

Daisy was pleased to see the cat take off, feeling as if she accomplished her job and perhaps, if she was lucky, would be rewarded with a piece of that succulent chicken on the table. She continued to make her presence known, barking like a rabid dog.

The Winchester family sat frozen, all of them a little frightened by the sudden arrival of a strange dog. Although she looked sweet, the warning barks could easily be interpreted as menacing and everyone was afraid to move.

The boys finally caught up with Daisy. Sig's long legs enabled him to get to the deck first. He picked up the handle of the black, nylon leash and pulled the dog back with a firm hand. Looking up at the stunned family, he said loudly over the barking, "I'm so sorry. She got away from us. She's friendly, don't worry. Apparently, not towards cats, though."

"Sig?" Amanda stood up and feigned surprise, tapping into her high school drama club skills, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, just out walking the dog," Sig knowingly smiled back at his brother's girlfriend.

"We we're, ahhh…" Norman added, coming up behind his brother, "….visiting in the neighborhood." It was not a lie…the boys were visiting. Norman just failed to mention who exactly they were visiting.

Edgar was the last to arrive, crouching on the ground next to Sig and calming Daisy down with soothing words and his bandaged hands stroking her ears. He knelt next to the dog, comforting her with his presence. Daisy stopped barking, more focused on the chicken and realizing her people may not be too pleased with her demanding behavior.

Sally got up from the table, extremely curious about both figures sitting on her side lawn; the handsome young boy with the emerald green eyes and the friendly dog with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. "Can I pet her?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Sure," Sig answered, turning a deferring gaze towards the older gentleman at the table, "If your father allows it."

Mr. Winchester waved his hand in an uninterested gesture of acquiesces. He was more absorbed with his suspicions regarding this 'surprise' home visit by three teenage boys, one of which couldn't seem to take his eyes off his oldest daughter.

Norman stood next to Edgar, absentmindedly petting the dog but focused exclusively on the petite brunette opening the small gate and ushering her younger sister down the one step that lead to the yard. Amanda looked beautiful in a pink flowery summer dress, her hair falling in soft curls around her face. Norman could smell her perfume as she walked around him and he closed his eyes, envisioning burying his nose in her hair and soaking up the feminine smell.

Kneeling next to Edgar, Sally allowed Daisy to lick her pixie-like face. "Oh my goodness, she's so cute," the little sister announced, giggling as the wet tongue licked her nose.

_So are you_, the youngest Hansen thought as he admired Sally's tan skin and summer blond highlights. "Norman found her on the side of the road. He saved her life."

"She's a lucky dog," Sally declared.

"We're trying to find her family," Sig explained, "I called around to the local pound and pet store in the area but no one seems to know anything about her."

"And if no one does claim her, what you are going to do with her? Will you keep her?" Mrs. Winchester asked.

Sig turned his attention back to Mr. and Mrs. Winchester. "Ma'am, that decision will be up to my father when he comes back from fishing. But, yes, with his permission, we'd like to keep her."

"Sounds like a wonderful thing you are doing, Sig," Mrs. Winchester softened her eyes. _Your mother would be proud of you. I bet you don't realize how often I spoke with your mother over the phone. I imagine Amanda and Norman don't even know that Mrs. Hansen and I conferred notes about their whereabouts on numerous occasions. She was an absolutely delightful woman and we became friends over the years_. "So you are taking care of your brothers this summer and now a dog? That's a lot of responsibility."

"Yes, ma'am," Sig smiled at her, "I've got a lot on my plate."

"And how's that going for you, son?" Mr. Winchester studied the countenance of the tall young man with the cobalt blue eyes. He remembered the oldest Hansen brother from Mrs. Hansen's funeral and on several occasions when he picked Amanda up from their house. He just couldn't remember this young man being so tall, so quietly confidence and seemingly put together. There certainly was an air about the young blond and the experienced Marine recognized it immediately. The Ret. Commissioned LtCol. of the US Marine Corps knew leadership when he saw it. He'd been trained to spot it from a mile away.

"It's been hard, sir," Sig admitted, looking directly into the man's eyes and never wavering. He wasn't looking for sympathy or a shoulder to crying on but plainly stating the facts, "But I'm managing."

Mr. Winchester nodded, the faintest hint of an understanding smile crossing his thin lips.

"Well," Mrs. Winchester said, rising from her seat, "Since you boys are here, you might as well join us for dinner."

Norman chirped, "We'd love…"

"Thank you ma'am," Sig interrupted quickly, "But we couldn't do that. I'm sorry for intruding on your meal."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Winchester smiled, "You boys stay and eat. And I won't take no for an answer." She left the table and headed into the house to get more food.

Norman caught his older brother's eye and smiled like a simpleton. Obviously, his plan was turning out better than he hoped. Now, he'd get to see his girlfriend for a longer period of time than he originally expected, regardless of the fact it would be under the watchful eye of her father. And, the knowledge that he was getting a second supper for the day didn't hurt either.

With a muffled exhale, Sig narrowed his eyes. Not only was he getting to meet his blind date, now he had to have dinner with him.

* * *

An hour later, the Norman and Edgar finished up their second helping of macaroni salad, BBQ chicken and freshly cut watermelon. Even Daisy managed to score a chicken drumstick bone and was making the most of it as she was tied in the shade under the deck. For the second time today, Sig pushed around the food on his plate, not willing to deal with making the pain in his jaw worse. Lucky, the oldest brother had someone to distract him from eating.

Riveted, Sig listened to Mr. Winchester's military stories. It was impossible to tell if the oldest brother was truly interested or just placating his 'date' for the evening. He asked the appropriate number of questions and 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over the tales. Then, he shared some of his own stories about the family boat, how she was built and all of the Northwestern's finest features.

Being a Marine, Mr. Winchester knew a thing or two about boats, considering, in his opinion, the US Navy was really a glorified escort for the Marine Corps. The man had spent some time at sea and was genuinely interested in Sig's nautical knowledge and experience. It didn't take long for the surly old LtCol. to take a liking to the mature, young man.

Amanda and Norman spent the meal trying to find ways to touch each other 'by accident.' He bumped into her knee with his hand as he reached for his fallen spoon. She brushed his hand with hers as she almost spilled her iced-tea.

Sally and Edgar seemed to be having trouble finding things to talk about so the two of them talked about the dog and Sally's cat, Muffin. Muffin had left the party when the dog arrived and hadn't come back since.

When Amanda offered to help her mother with the dishes, Norman chimed in that he'd help as well. The two of them got a few stole kisses in the kitchen when their mother went back to clear the table.

Finally, it was time to leave. Politely thanking the Winchesters for the meal, Sig called over to his youngest brother, "Edgar…"

That was all the reminder Edgar needed. "Thank you ma'am. The macaroni salad was awesome, just like my…" hesitating, his voice trailed off, "…my mom used to make."

"You are more than welcome," Mrs. Winchester accepted the compliment with a forced smile. Having lost her own mother when she was young, she knew what these boys were going through.

Amanda dragged Norman out from the kitchen and gave him a gentle shove out the sliding back door.

Norman looked pleadingly at Sig first, then turned to Mrs. Winchester, thanking her for the meal. Next, he looked over at the old man and was tempted to ask him how hooking up the security system was going. The middle brother had noted that it didn't seem to be installed yet. Passing on the temptation, he said firmly, "Thank you, sir."

"Norman," Mr. Winchester eyed the stocky, handsome young man with a cautious and wary look, "I hope we didn't keep you from your 'visiting.'' _I'm not stupid, boy!_

"Ah, no, sir…" Norman wanted to smack the smug look off the guy's face.

Sig intervened quickly, "Thanks again, sir. I enjoyed talking to you."

"Same here," Mr. Winchester smiled a little at this Hansen brother, extending his hand out for a handshake.

Sig shook the man's hand and thought _well, it's now or never_. "Sir," Sig swallowed. _I'm doing this for Norman_. "Our family has a cabin on Elbow Lake, about two hours from here. We're having a picnic out there this weekend…for Independence Day."

Mr. Winchester lost his smile, "I recall Norman mentioning something about that."

"And I'm sure my brother would like the girls to come," Sig stood up to the man, knowing a guy like this wouldn't appreciate cowering and begging. "They are welcomed to come with us…or they could come up on their own. As a matter of fact, you and Mrs. Winchester are welcome to come up and see the place for yourselves. Of course, you'd join us for the day."

Norman felt the bile rising in his throat and he turned away, hiding his crestfallen expression. _The last fucking thing I want is Papa Winchester hanging around the lake, ruining the fun. Damn it, Sig, this was NOT part of the plan. Why'd you invite her parents?_

Amanda glanced at her sister, her sun-kissed face turning pallid and looking slightly anemic. A horrid look passed between the two teenage girls, the thought of their parents coming with them about as awful an idea as someone changing the recipe for Coca-Cola and calling it "new" Coke. Neither girl wanted to be treated like a baby and, frankly, Amanda was sick of her father's over-protective nature and had had enough. Their parents coming with them to the lake was libel to start an all-out war at the Winchester house.

Mrs. Winchester came to the rescue, walking over and standing next to her husband, "Thank you, Sig, for the offer but I think the girls could go on their own. I'm sure they'd have more fun without us around. Amanda can drive and I'm sure she'd take very good care of her younger sister." The petite woman wrapped a delicate arm around her husband's back, hugging him lightly.

Shocked, Sig realized he'd been sent to butter up the wrong parent. Apparently, MRS. Winchester was the one who was going to make this happen.

Still, Mr. Winchester looked less than sold on the idea, "And who will be there at this party?"

Amanda held her breath, a glimmer of hope sparked in her chest. If her father was asking questions about it, he was at least considering letting them go. She crossed her fingers at her side, wiggling them to catch Norman's attention.

"It's just a picnic, sir," Sig corrected him, "And it will just be us and my friend, his girlfriend and younger brother."

"Am I to assume there will be alcohol at this…picnic?" the man asked sternly.

"No," Sig answered firm, "No one but my friend is over twenty-one and I know that my friend wouldn't drink in front of his younger brother. There will be no drinking, I can assure you."

The man pondered over the information. Next, after careful consideration, he asked, "You will be present the entire time?"

"Yes, sir," Sig replied, "I'll be keeping tabs on everyone. We'll be swimming, fishing, playing baseball and maybe setting off some fireworks at night. That's about the extent of it." Adding a heartbeat later, "It's what you fought for, sir…for us to continue to celebrate our country's freedom and independence OUR own way…forever." _Cheesy, yes, but if it works, so be it._

"John," Mrs. Winchester whispered in a soft but pressing voice. She squeezed her husband's mid-section, gently digging her long, manicured nails into his lumbar.

The man's jaw muscles tensed and relaxed several times as his hard grey eyes bore no indication which way he was leaning.

Sig, Norman, Edgar, Amanda, Sally, Mrs. Winchester and, peeking her head out from under the porch, Daisy looked at the ex-Marine with bated breath.

After an eternity, Mr. Winchester's shoulders sagged slightly. _I can't hold on to them forever._ "For the day," he said, pointing a firm finger in Sig's direction.

Amanda pumped her fist, Edgar smiled broadly and Sally squealed with delight. Daisy started barking and even Mrs. Winchester seemed happy for her girls. Norman kept quiet, looking at the back of Sig's head and seeing his brother in yet another new light this summer. The feeling was something akin to admiration and respect. He knew he owed his big bro BIG time for somehow pulling off this incredible feat and he would make it up to him somehow.

Among the small celebration, Sig sensed he was the only one that heard the rest of Mr. Winchester's declaration of independence. "My girls are NOT sleeping over, Sig. They come home by midnight. Anything goes wrong up there, your ass is gonna answer to me. Comprehend?"

"Yes, sir," Sig blanched under the stern warning, feeling very much like a Private, 1st class being sent to clean the LtCol.'s personal latrine…or to the front line to carry the Stars and Stripes up the hill. _Oh, shit, what have I gotten myself into to? How many fathers am I going to have to answer to this summer? What the hell was I thinking? _

_~tbc_


	56. Don't Look A Gift Horse In The Mouth

"Mr. Hansen, there are some people here to see you."

With a perplexed look, Sig craned his neck to see over the high back chair and watched as the pleasant dental assistant ushered his two brothers into the oral surgeon's examination room.

For most of the day, the oldest brother hadn't felt anxious about seeing the oral surgeon, that is, right up until the moment he walked through the fancy office's front door. The waiting room that greeted him was far more clinical and barren than the homey, welcoming waiting room of their old family dentist.

He'd been taken back to see the doctor almost immediately after filling out the required paperwork. No long wait with his family, no low lighting or funny cartoon drawings on the wall and no comfy sofas to make him feel at ease, Sig sensed he had been fooling himself into believing this was just another routine visit.

The surgeon happened to be a middle aged man with the bedside manner of a flea. Regardless of the man's demeanor, he seemed very thorough and professional. He examined Sig's mouth, took some notes and sent him down the hallway for a very detailed X-Ray of his mouth. The X-ray machine looked like something from the medieval times, resembling a partial Iron Maiden of modern machinery.

X-Ray completed, Sig was brought back to the dentist chair and left to wait for the results. It was while he was waiting alone that the oldest brother began to really get nervous. _Shit, what's the worst that can happen? My wisdom tooth has to come out. How much will that hurt? Does it matter? Of course it does. I'm a little scared. Man, I wish Mom was here. She always had a way of making me feel better about this kind of stuff._

As if he had sent up a mental distress flare for help, Norman and Edgar strolled into the room, answering the unvoiced call.

Watching his brothers walk in, Sig hid a smile, "Norman, I said you didn't need to come." _But I'm glad you did. I'm kind of freaked out at the moment._

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Norman sauntered by the left of the chair and sat down on the rolling stool reserved for the surgeon. "We were in the neighborhood," he smartly stated, sliding the stool around on the smooth tiled floor and inspecting the diplomas on the wall.

"Visiting, no doubt…" Sig said smugly, referring to Sunday night's 'impromptu' supper with the Winchester family, "…considering the hardware store is ten miles in the opposite direction from here to home. How the heck did you know where this place was?"

"I found Dr. Owen's business card in YOUR jeans pocket when I was doing the wash," Norman enlightened his brother, "You know, you should really clean out your pockets before your throw shit into the hamper." Grumbling under his breath, he added, "I found a fucking lighter, too."

"Watch your mouth!" Sig whispered forcefully, tilting his head in Edgar's direction and wondering where Norman's foul language was coming from.

"He's stressed out," Edgar said gently, coming to Norman's defense. Despite being the youngest, at times he felt like a buffer between his two older brothers, "He curses a lot when he's stressed."

The baby of the family cautiously approached Sig, standing next to him and studying his oldest brother's face with unusual curiosity. It seemed as if the young teen was attempting to use X-ray vision to check inside Sig's mouth. He was more than confused about why his brother had to come to this new place instead of the normal dentist. _And why does Sig look helpless sitting in this cold room and that large chair? Does he feel helpless?_

"I do not," Norman argued, "And I'm not stressed out."

"Yes, you do," Sig disagreed, noticing his younger brother's guarded look and rigid shoulders, "And yes you are. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Norman muttered. _I'm worried about you, asshole. This place is strange and far more formal and intimidating than I expected_.

"What are they going to do to you?" Edgar asked Sig with trepidation, his voice held a faint tremor. He reached out and placed an un-bandaged hand on his brother's bare forearm.

"Right now, nothing," Sig reassured his youngest brother, his mind distracted by the healed hand resting on his arm. "Edgar…" he said gently, staring at the small hand. Sig moved his arm, sliding up along the arm rest and putting Edgar's hand in his. He turned it over, grasping the back of his brother's hand and examining the palm. With his left index finger, he touched the new skin, marveling at the healing powers of the body. Like shedding a bad sunburn, the old skin had flaked off and new, baby-soft skin had replaced the damaged epidermis.

As Norman had taken over bandage duty since the night of the poker tournament, Sig hadn't seen his brother's hands exposed in close to a week. The last time he'd seen them had been when the skin had been re-injured from the last time Edgar rode his motor bike.

"Norman took off the bandages at work today," Edgar proudly announced, glancing at his own hand in Sig's, noting how much it was dwarfed by the rough, callous hand of his oldest brother's.

"I probably could have taken them off on Tuesday but…" Norman started and then stopped, finishing his thought with a shrug. He recognized he was being overly vigilant with Edgar's hands but, despite feeling like a worrying old grandma, he figured both he and Sig were going to be overly watchful when it came to Edgar for a long, long time. _ Wounds heal…but the memories haven't faded._

"Does it still hurt?" Sig asked as he carefully inspected each and every inch of his youngest brother's hand. He elevated his other palm up, indicating he sought to inspect the other hand as well.

Edgar complied, offering his left hand out to be scrutinized, "No, just a little itchy, like poison ivy."

"Don't scratch at them," Sig stated automatically, still studying the hands in his.

"I won't," Edgar whispered, wishing his brother would give him back his hands and remove the look of worry on his face. "I'm fine, Sig…really," he assured his brother.

Shaking off the dazed feeling, Sig lifted his gaze and pushed his brother's hands back towards him. He gave Edgar a smile mixed with relief and genuine happiness for another human being. "I know, I know," he uttered, "I know you're fine. I'm just…I'm just glad you're OK…really glad."

"Are you…OK?" Edgar asked. _You look nervous sitting in that big chair_.

Now, Sig spotted the same concerned look on Edgar's face that had been on his own only moments before.

Although he promised to be honest with his brothers from now on, Sig was prepared to answer the question with a lie. Filing the dishonesty under the category of 'white lies parents tell children,' he started to explain that everything would be fine when the doctor entered the room.

"Mr. Hansen," Dr. Owen walked in, carrying a manila folder. He seemed slightly taken aback when he found three young males in the room instead of just one, a faint widening of his narrow eyes, and then ignored the younger boys' presence.

In Norman's vast opinions, to be ignored like that was considered very rude and something their mother would have never allowed them to get away with. _The man should at least acknowledge Edgar. He's a kid, for Christ's sake. Doctors are supposed to be good with kids, offering them a lollipop or tongue depressor or something._

"You said you were in some pain. I think, looking at this…" the doctor walked over to the X-ray light box. He slipped out a film of plastic and attached it to the top of the box, hitting the light switch to illuminate the image. A panoramic view of Sig's mouth hung in front of the box, every tooth and jaw bone visible with incredible detail. "…you must be in a significant amount of pain."

Sig hung his head as the hard evidence proved him a liar on multiple occasions and with several different people. Although he'd been somewhat honest about the pain, he had been blowing off Norman and Edgar's concern for several days with 'it's not that bad' and 'I'm not worried about it.' He even tried to convince the doctor that the pain was mild, although he should have known the man was going to call him out on it eventually. _Maybe I was just trying to convince myself. Does it count as a lie if you really believe it at the time?_

Norman and Edgar glanced at each other, a knowing look passing between them that they'd been lulled into a false sense of security.

"This wisdom tooth here…" the doctor circled the lower right part of Sig's jaw and gums with a pencil, "…is impacted. It is pressing against your established teeth because it has no room to come in and it's going to keep pushing, shifting your back molars and ruining the alignment of your teeth. The others…" the man circled the other three hidden wisdom teeth, two on the right and left top and the left on the bottom, "…are going to cause the same predicament sooner or later when they erupt."

"So all his wisdom teeth have to be removed," Norman deduced from the explanation.

Dr. Owen turned around, studying the bulky young man rolling around in HIS chair. Hiding his annoyance with the interruption, he glanced over at Sig, "The lower right tooth needs to come out immediately. I recommend taking them all out at the same time and avoiding problems down the road. Now, I have a cancellation first thing tomorrow morning. I've had the office assistant fit you in…"

"WHAT exactly are you going to do tomorrow?" Norman asked, not bothering to hide his own annoyance with the less than affable doctor.

Dr. Owen frowned. "Are you related to Mr. Hansen, young man?" the doctor asked with a curt voice.

"I'm his brother," Norman stated defensively, coming off downright cocky, "Now can you tell him what's going to happen tomorrow?" _He's scared…can't you see that… and you're being a dick_.

"Norman…" Sig scolded, flashing his younger brother an embarrassed glare regarding his blatant disrespect towards the doctor.

"As I was going to explain…" the doctor continued in a huff, turning attention back to Sig, "…we'll give you general anesthesia so you'll have to refrain from eating from now until after the surgery. Water only from now on. Once you're completely under, I'll make an incision into your gums…"

After the word incision, Sig stopped listening. It was clear that Norman had taken over collecting and analyzing the information, staring a hole into the doctor's face with an intense gaze and giving the man his avid, undivided attention.

After the word surgery, Edgar started intently listening, his face losing some of its color.

When the doctor was done with his explanation, Sig only asked one question, "Do I really have to have this done tomorrow? I'm not trying to be rude. I appreciate you squeezing me into the schedule on such short notice but I have to work tomorrow and…" _I don't have the money for this_.

"Mr. Hansen, it's not going to get any better. In fact, it will only get worse. You are extremely lucky I have an opening at all for the rest of this month. It's tomorrow or you can opt to come back in late July but I have to warn you that the longer that tooth pushes against your other teeth, the more you run the risk of causing permanent damage," the doctor lifted his hands, palms up, "It's your choice. Personally, I would not want to deal with this much pain for another month when it can be over by this time tomorrow."

"He'll take the appointment," Norman stated with finality, standing up and getting ready to leave. He shot Sig a look the oldest brother had seen many times in his life, yet it had been on a different person's face; his father's. Norman's expression made him look exactly like their father, Sverre, only a much younger, funnier version.

Even Edgar, to whom the look was not directed, squirmed uncomfortably.

The doctor glanced at Sig, waiting for the official confirmation.

For Sig, this was all happening too fast. He'd just come for a consultation never expecting he'd walk out knowing he was scheduled for minor surgery tomorrow. During the long pause of consideration, the doctor and Norman seemed to be losing their patience as they shifted their body weight and glared at Sig as if willing him to make up his mind.

Edgar was the only one to offer his oldest brother a half-hearted smile. "Looks like it's time to take your medicine," he quipped softly.

Sig good-naturedly nodded his head and broke into a smile. _I love this kid brother of mine, always knows when to use my words to back me into a corner. At least I know he's paying attention to what I say._

"Huh?" Norman questioned, missing the inside joke.

"Alright," Sig gave in, "Tomorrow."

"Fine, Mr. Hansen," the doctor turned on his heels, "The nurse will have some instructions for you when you check out. Please follow them. And you'll need a ride home tomorrow." Pausing on his way out the door, the doctor added, "You made the right decision."

Sig sighed, running his hands through his hair. _ I can only hope so_.

* * *

The Trans Am pulled into the driveway, followed closely by the Ford F150 pick-up. Considering there was a police cruiser already parked in the Hansen's driveway, Norman had to park the truck on the grass.

As the older boys emerged from their respective vehicles, Norman looked over the roof of the truck and said to his oldest brother, "IT WAS NOT ME!" in reference to the police presence at their home.

Edgar hesitated getting out of the truck, shooting Sig a look of panic through the glass windshield.

Sig held out his hand in a calming, reassuring gesture to Edgar and mouthed, "It's OK." He slammed the driver's side door shut, focused on controlling his breathing and willing his heart to stop pounding so fast. Walking around the police cruiser, Sig approached the porch and found Officer Markley knocking on their back door.

Seeing the curvy blond police woman with the long blond hair made Sig's heart start racing for different reasons. Along with his heart, other parts of his anatomy seemed to wake up and come to life.

Daisy was barking up a storm inside the house, bouncing up high enough that she could look out the door window. From outside, she looked like a deranged jack-in-the-box.

"Ma'am?" Sig asked as he came up behind the woman, raising the volume of his voice over the barking coming from the other side of the door.

Startled, Officer Markley quickly turned around, her hand on the holster of her firearm.

"Whoa, Miss," Sig reached out, stepping closer and touching the officer lightly on the arm. "It's just me," he crooned softly, looking down and gazing into her frightened eyes. Regardless of the fact he'd almost had a loaded weapon drawn on him, Sig could only focus on his callous hand on the lady's arm, the silky softness of her bare skin.

Patricia stared up into the memorizing cobalt blue eyes of the blond, handsome man. All 6'2 feet of him, he towered over her, making her feel small. Recovering from the startle, she softened her gaze and took her hand off her sidearm. "Sorry," she croaked out, finding her voice, "Force of habit." _My God, he's gorgeous. Everything about him oozes sexiness. And why does my voice sound so strange? Get a hold of yourself, girl. He's barely legal and you're here on business. You're not one to swoon at men's feet…but this isn't just any man. This man is too beautiful for his own good. And those eyes…those freaking blue eyes…_

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Sig smiled, ever the gentleman, "I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that." He left his hand linger on her arm longer than necessary, loathing to pull it away. Finally, he pushed the touch just past the point of awkwardness and regretfully retracted his hand.

"And I probably should have called first," Patricia explained, shaking off the personal feelings and getting down to the matter at hand, "I've brought some things for you…some things that got left in the Shack's safe the other night…as well as something else. Can we talk for a minute?"

_Sweetheart, I could talk to you all day. I love my brothers to death, don't get me wrong, but I sincerely miss having a girl to talk to_. "Sure," Sig nodded, hearing his younger brothers coming up behind him and secretly wishing they'd get lost for a while...a long while.

Norman was practically dragging Edgar behind him by the arm. Once the younger teen recognized the pretty police officer, he relaxed somewhat.

"Edgar," Patricia spotted the boy hiding behind his muscular brother.

"Ma'am," Edgar gave the woman a tentative nod.

"And you must be Norman," Patricia announced, turning her gaze to the middle brother standing at the bottom of the porch steps, "I'm Officer Markley."

_I could have figured that one out on my own. Holy shit, I can see why Sig dreams about you at night_. The blond officer was wearing her long hair in a high ponytail that draped over her shoulder, making her appear younger than her age. The cut of her summer uniform hugged every curve of her figure and the buttons of her shirt were being stretched to capacity across her bosom. "Hello," Norman stated politely, watching Sig watching her every move and inwardly snickering.

"The officer is here to drop off some things," Sig said, throwing a pointed look over at Edgar.

Edgar went back to hiding behind Norman, this time to avoid Sig's reproachable gaze.

"Would you like to come in?" Sig asked, fumbling for the keys he had shoved into his back pocket.

"Just for a minute," the officer explained, holding a large envelope in her left hand, "I don't want to disturb your evening."

"Believe me, miss," Norman said as he walked up the steps, "It's not any inconvenience."

As soon as the door opened, Daisy and all her pent up energy came bursting through. She was thrilled to see her boys and curious about this stranger. The stranger had all kinds of new smells on her. One in particular caught Daisy interest. _A male dog…a big male dog…German Sheppard, perhaps?_

The boys managed to restrain Daisy long enough for them all to get in the door.

Patricia turned to Edgar, a brilliant smile on her face, "Ed, I see you finally got a dog."

"She's a stray," Sig explained, "We're trying to find her owners but it's been four days and no one has called yet. Do you like dogs?"

"Love 'em," she answered cheerfully, "But I couldn't bring home another dog. Russ would have a fit."

Sig's face fell. "You're married, then?" he asked before he could stop the intrusive question.

"Married?" Patricia looked confused, finally realizing the misunderstanding, "No, no, Russ is my dog. He's a retired K-9 officer. I live alone." _Now why the hell did I tell him THAT?_

"Oh," Sig shrugged with indifference, doing a terrific job of masking the elation he felt in finding out the lady was single.

"We're not giving her away," Edgar clarified, "We're going to keep her…" Spotting Sig cocking his eyebrow over the announcement, the youngest brother amended his statement, "…if our dad allows it."

"Edgar," Norman grabbed the leash off the hook beside him, "How about you and me take Daisy for a walk? I'm sure she needs to get out for a while." _And I'm sure Sig would like us to get out of the house for a while, too._

_Yes, please take the dog and yourselves for a walk_. Sig smiled over at Edgar, communicating that this was a fabulous idea for everyone, Daisy included.

Edgar got the picture. _The adults want to talk and they don't want the little kid around when they do. I'm getting kind of sick of that. How much longer till I'm old enough to be included in the grown-up conversation?_

A few moments later, Norman, Edgar and Daisy proceeded out the back door, leaving the beautiful blond people alone in the kitchen.

Sig gestured to the kitchen table with his hand, "Sit, please. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you," Patricia sat down, placing the envelope on the table, "Please sit down yourself, Mr. Hansen."

"Sig," he corrected her, "Please call me Sig."

"Alright," she smiled, "There are some things we have to go over…Sig"

_OK, that has to be the sweetest sounding thing I've heard in a long time. You saying my name makes me feel a little weak in the knees._ "Please tell me it isn't bad news," he said sincerely, "I've had enough of bad news today. And my kid brother is still recovering from everything that happened. I'd hate to dig it all up again now."

"No, Edgar has no reason to be afraid," she stated firmly, "Although I can only hope he'll make better decisions in the future about where and with whom he hangs out. But the case was officially closed this morning so that ends the investigation. That's part of the reason I'm here. Maybe it would be better if I'd just explain."

Sig simply nodded, giving the woman his attention, which wasn't a difficult task.

Patricia opened the large envelope and deposited the contents on the kitchen table. The pink slip to the motor bike, the keys for the bike and another, business-size, white envelope fell onto the table. "These, I believe, belong to your father," she said, sliding over the bike's ownership papers and keys across the table.

Sig glanced down at his dad's signature on the document. Seeing the old paperwork gave him a weird feeling he couldn't identify but he suspected it was something close to nostalgia. "Yes, this is to Edgar's bike. Thank you for bringing it over." _You could have called and told me this stuff was ready to be picked up but you made the effort to come by and drop them off personally. Should I take that as some kind of sign or am I reading too much into it?_ He slipped both items off to the side and concentrated in the mysterious white envelope.

"And this…" Patricia pushed the white envelope across the table, "…belongs to you."

Sig squinted his eyes in confusion. _I didn't leave anything at the Shack_.

"Mr. Hansen…Sig…just open it," Patricia said patiently, "I'll fill in the holes after you're done."

"You know what's in here?" he asked as he picked up the envelope, tearing the seal open.

"Yes, I'm afraid I do. The police chief gave me specific instructions to bring this to you and to answer any questions you might have," a fleeting glimpse of frustration crossed her face. _Like I'm the man's personal courier_.

_So much for thinking she came on her own to see me_. Sig opened the envelope and removed the contents. A large, three-folded document was the first thing he came across. When he began unfolding the document, a car key and a note slipped out into his hand. Immediately, the key was the first thing to capture his interest. Clearly, it belonged to an automobile and had a silver mustang imprinted on its black bow.

Fingering the key in his hand, he studied the document. It was the title to a 1984 Ford Mustang GT. On the back, it had been signed over to one Sigurd Hansen.

Sig dropped the key, letting it ping off the kitchen table and fall to the floor. _There has to be some kind of explanation for this_. Spying the note, he unfolded the little white piece of paper and read the beautiful, Catholic schoolboy handwriting.

**Mr. Hansen,**

**Don't ask questions. Just sell it. Pay off your bills. The rest should go into a trust fund for the kid. He earned it.**

**J.**

_J.? Who the hell is J.? Junior? The old guy from the Shack?_ Sig lifted his head and gazed at the police officer across the table, "What the hell is going on here?"

Patricia sighed, knowing enough about the Hansen family from Edgar's interview to sense that Sig's morals were similar to her own. She tried to clarify in an effort to set his conscience at ease. "The Mustang was a company car used, with permission, by Mr. Neese and his associates as long as he worked for the company. Now that the company, a trucking business out of New Jersey that owned the Shack and its surrounding land, is selling the property, everything is being liquidated. The car is part of that liquidation."

"OK," Sig shook his head, "But how does all that come down to this…?" holding up the car title in his hand.

"The owners of the company…" Patricia began, "…have signed over the car to you. It's yours now, free and clear. All you have to do is register the title in your name and get your signature on the back notarized."

"This CANNOT be legal."

"It is. There's nothing illegal about it."

Sig was stunned. "I can't take this." He placed the car title on the table like the paper was burning his hand. "This doesn't feel right to me."

"I understand how you must feel," the pretty office sympathized with the oldest brother, "But I can assure you there is nothing criminal about it. It's a gift, plain and simple."

"It's a pretty outrageous God damn gift," Sig groused, "Excuse me, I don't mean to cuss or sound ungrateful but this is just….crazy. I'm sure you know that the owners of this company have…shady…business dealings, among other things. That means this car, at some point, was purchased with dirty money."

"You don't know that for sure. Who knows how the car came to be but, however it came to you, if and when you sell it, the money will be clean," she gave Sig a half-hearted smile, "I'm not sure what you are planning on doing but the car is sitting in the impound lot at the station and someone's going to have to claim it soon or it will be auctioned off as an abandoned vehicle."

"So I don't have to take it?"

"No," Patricia explained, "No one is forcing you. You could shred that document and pretend this never happened but…I think the meaning behind the gift comes from a genuine place. Look, Mr. Hansen, I'm a good cop…" she paused, smiling, "…or at least I try to be. And although I haven't being out of the academy that long, I've seen some things already that would make your blood run cold. I've seen people battered, bruised, taken advantage of and financially ruined and, even with the court system on their side, very few get the justice their looking for. Most come away with nothing.

Your brother suffered…and I mean, really suffered…because of what those men did to him. And your family has suffered right along with him. Beyond the pain and suffering, there were medical bills incurred because of his injuries. And there may be more medical bills related to this crime in the future and money will need to be encumbered in that event. This," she gestured to the car title, "doesn't happen very often. Victims seldom get the compensation they truly deserve.

If it helps you make your decision, let me share this with you. One of my co-workers, recently divorced from his wife and going through some kind of mid-life crisis, has been drooling over the car since it showed up. He's already stated several times he loved to buy it. His name is Officer Shea O'Reilly.

You can sell it to him and never once have to actually touch the car. He'd offer you a fair market value, which in case you don't know, is about $16,000. That's a lot of money, Mr. Hansen, a lot of money that could do some real good after a lot of bad."

Patricia was tempted to mention the reason Edgar had come to play poker in the first place. Having no knowledge about the ring, she had only heard through police gossip the kid was trying to win money to help his family's financial struggles. But she sensed that Sig, like most men, would be too proud to admit that the family was in debt.

Sig kept shaking his head, trying to make sense of reality. A relative stranger, with a seedy background, was giving him an extremely expensive gift with no strings attached. A gift that could pay for two hospital bills, an oral surgeon, a therapist for Edgar, a trip or two to the veterinarian, and still have some left over for both Norman and Edgar's college fund.

But there were a few things getting in Sig's way, keeping him from celebrating. One of those things was his rigid moral compass; the others were pride and the fear of being in a gangster's debt. _Perhaps the gangster is the one who felt in debt - Edgar's debt_. "This is overwhelming," he finally stated, "I need some time to think."

"Understandable," Patricia nodded, standing up to leave, "Take a few days to think over your decision. When you've decided, would you do me the courtesy of calling and letting me know? Until I hear from you, we'll keep the car safe at the station." From her hip pocket, she slipped out a small card with her direct extension imprinted on the front.

"I'll give you a call as soon as possible," Sig stood and retrieved the key off the floor. He gathered all the paperwork, keys and business card and placed all the items back in the large envelope. Keeping the envelope in his tight grip, he saw the lady the few steps to the back door.

"Again, thank you for coming all this way," Sig said softly, suddenly feeling awkward. There were about a hundred different things he wanted to say, most of which went something like - _Can I take you out sometime?_

Patricia smiled, "It was no trouble. Good day to you, Mr. Hansen…Sig."

As she opened the back door, Sig took a step forward, "Can I ask…is it too forward of me to ask what your name is? I mean…" the oldest brother's face grew warm with nervousness, "…your name tag take just says Officer Markley. What's your first name?" _Holy hell, this shit was so much easier in high school. I'd just slip you a note in study hall asking if you wanted to hang out with me sometime. Why does adult dating seem so much more complicated?_

"It's Patricia," she answered softly, offering him a different kind of smile than before. It wasn't a polite cop's smile but a woman's smile and the police uniform and all its trappings seemed to fade away.

_I want to kiss those lips soooo badly_. Instead, Sig just smiled back and watched her walk out the door.

On autopilot, Sig shut the door behind her and made several phone calls before his brothers returned. One was to his boss, calling off for tomorrow and the other went to Phil Harris for a ride to and from the oral surgeon in the morning.

Then he pulled his car into the garage since he wouldn't be using it tomorrow.

Finally, he took the envelope upstairs and hid it in his nightstand drawer.

After all the immediate needs were accomplished, Sig had a moment to think clearly. He sat down on his bed and tried to wrap his head around the last few hours of his life. _I find out I'm having surgery tomorrow and then I came home to find a cop car in my driveway and the hot policewoman knocking on my back door with a gift that's worth more than I could make working at the docks for the next three summers. What a freaking roller coaster! Next twist on the ride-telling Norman I have the title to his dream car or keeping this information all to myself._

* * *

Sig was still in his room when his brothers and Daisy returned from their walk. He could hear them downstairs, making a quick dinner for themselves. Hungry, the eighteen-year-old decided he couldn't tolerate watching his brothers eat while he had to fast so he stayed in his room and studied the title to the Mustang. Having recently experienced purchasing a vehicle, Sig couldn't find any fault with the document, even comparing it to the one for the Trans Am still kept in his lockbox.

Hearing Edgar excitedly announce that he was going to take the longest shower of his life, Sig laughed out loud. _That kid has been wanting to get a shower for the longest time._ The heartfelt announcement, as simple as it was, made Sig think about all the pain and suffering his youngest brother had endured over the last week and a half.

_A shower is a one of life's tiny pleasures. It shouldn't be a big deal that Edgar was denied that tiny pleasure for so long, yet, for me, it is. Someone took that pleasure away from him and put pain in its place. How much pain has my brother endured, how difficult was it for him to lose the ability of his hands? Even now that he'd healed, Edgar is going to bear those cigarette scars on his arms forever. And he still has nightmares every night. Some nights are worse than others, but each and every night, he cries. _

Closing his eyes, Sig vividly remembered carrying his brother out of the Shack in his arms, his hands bleeding, his face swollen and bruised. With that image in mind, Sig made his decision about the car.

He folded the title and placed it back in the envelope, adding it to the Trans Am paperwork in the lockbox.

"Edgar?" Sig called out as he heard his youngest brother's light footfalls coming up the steps. A few seconds later, a shaggy haired kid showed up in the doorway.

"We didn't think you were home," Edgar said as he stopped just outside his brother's room.

Sig frowned, "Where else would I be?"

Edgar shrugged, "Norman said maybe you went for a drive with the police officer in her car. He said you wanted to know what kind of engine she has under her hood."

Sig's frown turned to disbelief, "And you believed him?" _And apparently the sexual innuendo went right over your head._

Edgar shrugged again, this time adding his hands, palms up, in reply. _Why wouldn't I? He's my brother._

Suddenly the muffled sounds of hammering coming from the garage could be heard resonating throughout the house.

"What's Norman doing now?" Sig asked.

Edgar smiled with a gleam in his eyes, "He's building a dog house."

Sig sighed, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. No matter how many times he said it, his brothers just didn't seem to get the fact that the dog may not be staying with them. It was as if his words fell on deaf ears. In his heart, he couldn't blame them. As far as Norman and Edgar were concerned, 'just till we find his/her owners' was code for 'the dog is staying.' For eight years, Mom had uttered that phrase every time Dad complained about Jack.

"Are you going to get a shower?" Sig asked.

"Yeah," Edgar replied, "Unless you want to get in there first. I can wait."

"No, no," Sig protested, "You enjoy your shower. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute."

Edgar hesitated in the doorway, his smile fading, "This is about the police officer, isn't it? Am I in trouble?"

"No, nothing like that," Sig patted the space next to him on the edge of the bed, indicating Edgar should come in instead of hovering in the doorway.

Feeling as if he was being invited to the big kid's table, Edgar walked into his oldest brother's room and sat down next to him. So often he'd been denied access to this room as a little boy that, even now, it felt like he was finally being accepted.

"Officer Markley returned the paperwork and keys to the bike. I put the paperwork back in Dad's desk and I'll be…" Sig swallowed, still finding it difficult to be firm with his brother's punishment, "…holding onto the keys until the end of the summer." _I despise spanking him but at least that's over and done in a matter of minutes. I can force myself to be a hard ass for those few minutes but these long-term punishments, like grounding him and taking the bike away, are draining on my resolve._

"OK," Edgar acknowledged the information, unsure of what else he could or should say. _I'm relieved we got those things back but I'm uncertain if Sig would be happy to know I was relieved._

"The officer said the case is closed so you don't have to worry about anything," Sig assured his brother, "You're not in any trouble with the police."

"OK." _Just with you. And I have to earn back your trust but I don't know how. I want you to trust me again more than anything in the world, more than the bike or my own independence._

As he glanced over in his brother's direction, Edgar noticed that Sig seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say next.

Sig mulled over telling Edgar about the Mustang, deciding on the spur of the moment to take the long way around to get the information he was seeking, "Kid, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Edgar inched ever so slightly towards his brother, clueing him in that he was ready for any question with a 100% honest answer. _Trust, trust, trust…and no more lies._

Sig paused, not so much for dramatic effect but because he hated to bring it up, "If you had taken that money…the money from the poker game, I mean…what would you have done with it?"

_Hmmm, easy question_. "I would have given it to you."

Sig looked down and hid a smile, "OK, what did you want ME to do with it?"

"Dunno," Edgar shrugged, the 'teenage shrug' fast becoming one of his favorite gestures, "Pay the hospital bills, I guess."

"Hypothetically," Sig glanced down at the floor, "If there had been money left over after the bills were paid, what would you have want me to do with the extra?"

Edgar had to think hard about the question, never considering there would be money left over after the bills were paid. He racked his brain and thought about how the hypothetical money could have best helped his family. _Dad could have used the money for the boat…but I doubt he would have taken it without a full explanation about where the money came from…which reminds me…_ "Sig…"

"Yeah?"

"Are you gonna tell Dad about…you know…everything?" Edgar's voice trembled as he asked the question.

Although he knew the question was going to come eventually, Sig got blindsided with it. He would love to forget about the Shack entirely and never mention it to his father or anyone else ever again. But Dad already knew about the first two incidents, first where Edgar wrecked his bike and second where he'd been beaten. Would telling his father about the third and final incident really make a difference? The lie by omission was a tempting thought, one he'd like to give into very much.

_Dad would never understand Edgar's reasons for going back there and getting involved in an illegal poker game. The man could care less about a stupid ring. Then again, there's a box in his desk right now that contains a second ring and I don't know how it got here…was it Dad or Mom's doing? So maybe he would understand…Oh, who the hell am I kidding?_

"I don't know," Sig told his youngest brother, feeling his heart clench when the teenager's face crumbled. He put his arm around Edgar's shoulders and pulled him close to his side.

Edgar huddled up against his big brother, resting his head in the crook of Sig's neck. _I shouldn't have to ask. I shouldn't even imply it. I cannot ask Sig to lie for me so why would I assume he would? I'm just really scared about Dad finding out about what I did. My Old Man is going to flip out when he hears I went back there, gambled my bike and almost got shot. Dad may make the lickin' I got from Sig feel like a mosquito bite. But worse than that, he will be so disappointed with me, more than ever before. I've messed up but never like this, never this bad. Guess I never considered Dad at all when I came up with that plan. I only thought about how Sig was going to react._

"Sig, it's OK," the young teen whispered, "I'm sorry I asked. You have to tell Dad what happened."

_I DON'T HAVE TO TELL HIM JACK SHIT!_ For the first time, Sig seriously considered throwing his summer promises out the window. _Fuck the honesty and leading by example. The kid messed up. He got punished for it. I'm confident, albeit a shaky, hope-filled confidence, that the kid learned his lesson and will never do something so dangerous again. How is telling my father about it going to benefit anyone?_

Yet, something deep inside took over and forced Sig not to make up his mind about this just yet. Perhaps it was that he already felt like he was compromising his morals with accepting the Mustang. Perhaps it was the Mustang itself and how else he would explain to his father that the hospital bills got paid. Or it could have been Edgar's trusting nature in him that he'd always do the right thing…whatever it was?

"Edgar, I don't know what's going to happen when Dad gets home," Sig gave the narrow, boney shoulders a squeeze, "But, just like I told you before, you're not getting punished for the same thing twice. I won't allow it. Trust me?" When he felt Edgar nod against his shoulder, Sig took the opportunity to steer the conversation back on course, "So, you didn't answer the question. What would you do with the money?"

"I guess put it in the bank," Edgar replied. _It's what Mom would have made me do. She always made us put part of our birthday and Christmas money in our saving account._

Sig grinned, ruffling the back of Edgar's hair, "You mean you wouldn't have bought anything for yourself with it?"

"Never thought about it before," Edgar leaned back, catching his brother's eye and growing suspicious, "What's with all the questions about the poker money? Do you think I should have kept it?"

"Absolutely not," Sig stated firmly. _So why do I think it's OK to accept the Mustang? _ "You did the right thing, Edgar. Please don't ever think I believe otherwise, OK? I was just daydreaming, that's all. The police officer just brought back a lot of memories."

"I think she looks like mom," Edgar shared innocently, "Don't you?"

Sig visibly shuddered at the thought. "No, not at all." _Am I attracted to a woman that looks like my mother? What the hell was that dude's name from my psych class Senior year…Freud…didn't he have a theory on that? Ick! He was a cocaine addict anyway._

"She has the same color hair and she wears it long, like mom and…"

"Go get your shower," Sig stood up, not wanting to hear anything more on the comparison, "Just try not to use up all the hot water. I need one, too. I doubt I'll have time in the morning."

_Because of your teeth. With the police showing up, I forgot about that_. "Are you scared…" Edgar asked, "…of getting your teeth operated on tomorrow?"

"Yes and no," Sig openly revealed, "I'm scared that they're gonna put me under but, the pain in my jaw is so bad, I'm just ready for it to be over."

A strained look crossed Edgar's face. Inside, he was starting to feel the panic every child experiences when the person they rely on to take care of them is in pain or danger. The fear of losing that one dependable person is overwhelming and it was a fear Edgar knew all too well.

For the first time in weeks, Edgar's hand drifted to his face and he started absentmindedly rubbing at his cheek.

"Hey," Sig said softly, spotting the old tell of nervousness, "It will be fine. I'll be fine." _I hope._

Sig's choice of phrase did little to sooth Edgar's fear. _You've been saying that for days but now you're having surgery tomorrow. So will it really be fine? Of course, I've told you the same exact thing when I was very far from fine. Lots of times, I was scared or my hands hurt bad but I told you I was fine just because I didn't want you to be upset or worried about me. I know what it's like to want to protect someone from the truth. _

Feigning acceptance of the reassurance, Edgar nodded and got up to leave. He had to walk passed his brother to get out of the room and ended up getting pulled into an unexpected hug when he was in arm's reach.

Edgar returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Sig's waist and placing the flat of his palms up against Sig's upper back. "After your surgery, maybe I can take care of you for a change," he mumbled into Sig's chest.

Laughing into his little brother's hair, Sig answered, "I'd rather have you taking care of me than Norman."

"Awww, Sig, he'll do a good job taking care of you."

"Oh, I know he will. I'm just not looking forward to the sarcastic comments and smartass jokes he's going to throw my way while he's doing it," Sig explained, "But I don't think I'm going to need either one of you. This procedure is minor, nothing like what Norman went through with his appendix. I should be back to normal by tomorrow night." _Here's to wishful thinking._

* * *

"It's for you, you know," Norman grumbled, "You could at least stay out of the way."

_But I'm helping. What is this, anyway?_ Daisy nosed around the tools and wooden planks scattered on the garage floor, knocking over several containers of bolts and braces with her wagging tail. Considering she had exclusive access to Norman's face as he knelt on the floor, when she was not investigating the scene, she was licking his stubbly cheeks.

"Seriously," Norman gently pushed her off, "Please stay out of the way. Go lay down!"

_Lay down? Lay down! I was laying down all day. Fine, but I'd really like to play that game with the ball again when you're done._ Daisy found a clear spot on the garage floor and laid down, Sphinx-like, to watch Norman at work. Finding the cool concrete floor against her belly a wonderful pleasure on a hot day, she settled in as the construction supervisor.

"I see you have help," Sig quipped as he entered the garage.

Norman didn't look up. He continued assembling the A-frame for the doghouse. "I'd rather have her looking over my shoulder than my boss. You know," he added disgustedly, "I get an employee discount on anything I buy from the store but you would think I was robbing the boss's pockets with the way he looked at me when I purchased this lumber. It's not like I take advantage of the privilege."

Sig glanced around the garage and took silent note of all the tools Norman had purchased since working at Pete's Hardware. _It's like having a kid working in a candy store. I'll bet he doesn't even realize all the stuff he's bought, half of which he'll probably never use._ "Hmmm," Sig hummed, "Then where'd all this stuff come from?"

Norman looked up at his brother, shooting him a look of indignation, "I need this stuff, as you call it, to fix the shit that breaks around here. I don't hear you complaining when I've changed the oil on your piece of shit car or when you have hot water for your shower."

"My car is NOT a piece of shit and you damn well know it," Sig fired back, "And as far as the hot water goes, by the time Edgar gets out of the shower, NOBODY'S gonna have hot water for their shower tonight."

"The kid deserves it," Norman sighed.

"I know," Sig conferred, lowering his voice, "The kid deserves a lot more than just a shower." Then he leaned against the hood of the Trans, folded his arms against his chest and told Norman about the visit from the police officer, including the Mustang and cryptic note with instructions on what to do with it.

Norman listened intently, mid-way through Sig's speech setting his hammer down and sitting on his gluteus maximus before he fell over.

Sig finished recounting the story with the question, "So, what do you think I should do with the car?"

Norman said without hesitation, "Give it to me."

"C'mon," Sig slapped his thigh in frustration, "Be serious for once."

"I am," Norman protested, looking up at his brother with his best puppy dog eyes, "I'll…I'll find a way…take out a loan…I could get a second job…"

"Knock it off," Sig slid his backside down the side of the Trans Am and took a seat on the hard concrete floor. Daisy took this as an invitation, quickly rushing over to Sig's side and nudging her nose against his rough hand.

Absentmindedly petting the soft fur, he crushed Norman's dream of owning the Mustang, "Between the two of us, we don't need three cars, two of which are sports cars that insurance companies just love to use as an excuse to jack up my premium."

"Then sell the Trans," Norman stated as if that would easily solve the problem of having three cars.

Sig just shook his head, "Norm, the Trans isn't worth as much as the Mustang." _Besides, I like my car_.

"For good reason," Norman's eyes grew wide, "Because Pontiac doesn't know the first thing about making sports cars. Ford, on the other hand, makes real cars with power. Jesus, Sig, this is your chance to own a real car for once."

"With you bugging me every day to borrow it while I get stuck with the truck," Sig rolled his eyes, "No thanks."

Norman's mind raced for another plausible idea that ended up with the Mustang staying in the family, "Then I'll sell the truck."

"YOU are still paying OFF the truck," Sig reached his long leg out and lightly kicked his brother, perhaps giving the kick a little more 'oomph' then he intended to. "C'mon, please, be realistic about this. What do you think I should do?"

"Why?" Norman blurted out. "Why are you asking me? I know you," he picked up the hammer and pointed it in Sig's direction, "I know you've made up your mind already. So why bother me about it?"

"Because I value your opinion, dumbass," Sig felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to prickle with annoyance, "I thought…I'd sell it…pay off the hospital and other bills and…take care of Edgar…you know, with the therapist thing. Do you think that's the right thing to do…considering where the car came from and all?"

_Yes, it sounds like the right thing to do. So why does it piss me off so much?_ "Do whatever you want with it," Norman focused his attention on the soon to be doghouse, "I don't care."

Sig ended up looking at the top of his brother's head and listening to the next nail being hammered into the wood. He felt the anger welling up inside him, coming rapidly to the surface. "You are acting like a God damn brat right now. And the same goes for the way you treated the doctor."

"I didn't like his attitude," Norman explained haughtily without looking up. He continued on with his hammering.

For Sig, the hammering noise was getting irritating and he wanted nothing more than to rip the hammer out of Norman's hand and throw it out into the street via the open garage door. "I don't care about the man's attitude so long as he knows what the hell he's doing inside my fucking mouth." _Which hurts really, really fucking bad right now and you being an asshole isn't helping!_

Norman paused, hammer held in the air. _Shit, Sig's in pain and I forgot_. "I'll take you tomorrow…for your surger…"

"Don't worry about it," Sig brushed off the gesture, "Phil Harris is taking me. I already called him while you and Edgar were out walking the dog. I called off of work, too." _And I don't want you missing work to take me._

Norman took the rejection personally, something in the past he'd warned his older brother about doing with Edgar. _You'd rather have your friend take you than your own brother. Shit, that hurts. This was my chance to make up for the whole appendix thing; you take care of me, I take care of you. What the hell happened to that?_

Distractedly, Norman slammed the next nail down with the hammer so forcefully, it splintered the wood and ruined the piece of lumber. "God Dammit!" he yelled, suddenly furious over so many things in such a short time. _OK, I AM acting like a brat but, dammit, I'm sick and tired of having to work for every little thing in my life. Other kids get cars like a Mustang GT handed to them on their sixteenth birthday. I've had to work my ass off just to get this truck, which I love, but why can't we keep the Mustang and find another way to pay for all that other stuff_.

A strong sense of teenage entitlement raised its ugly head inside Norman's heart. Envy, rejection, guilt, embarrassment for acting selfish, stress from his brother's upcoming surgery: Norman felt them all and lost his temper.

As if Sig got his wish, Norman turned and threw the hammer out the garage door in frustration. As the tool hit the asphalt of the driveway, Daisy jumped up and chased after the hammer. _A new game?_

The boys watched the dog sniff around the hammer in silence. After a few seconds of quiet between them, Sig asked, "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Nothing," Norman closed off his emotions, putting up the wall, "I'm going for a drive." He got up and brushed the sawdust off his jeans.

Sig was on his feet in under a second. He grabbed Norman's arm as he tried to pass, "No, you're not. Not like this."

"Get off me!" Norman tried to pull his arm away without success, "I'm leaving."

"Nope," Sig refused to let go, tightly squeezing his brother's muscular arm, "Not until you calm down and tell me what the hell is wrong."

"I don't want to talk to you!" _LET ME GO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!_

"Fine," Sig held on, "You don't have to talk to me but I'm not letting you drive angry. Go for a walk if you need to."

Much like restraining an angry bull, Norman only became more hostile and frustrated that he could not escape. "Go to hell," the vicious words slipped out before Norman could stop them, regretting them the instant they left his lips. He cringed, expecting Sig to knock his block off with a blow to the head.

"OK, now you can go to your room," Sig said with authority, clenching the fabric of his work slacks to prevent himself from striking his brother in anger.

It was not the blow Norman was expecting. "You can't be serious," he said in disbelief.

Sig squeezed his brother's arm hard, adding a slight twist and getting in Norman's face, nose to nose, "Wanna try me?"

"What's wrong, guys?" Edgar asked timidly from the doorway between kitchen and the garage. His long hair was dripping wet and he had a towel around his waist. Coming out of the shower, he had heard his older brothers' muffled argument and came to investigate, or snoop, however you wanted to look at it. When the normal arguing on Norman's part turned nasty, he went against his usual method of staying out his older brothers' fights and intervened.

"Nothing, baby," Sig couldn't explain why he used the offensive word but it seemed like a good way to remind Norman that their little brother was just a kid that didn't need to see his family in this state. His gaze remained laser-locked on Norman's face, his eyes narrowing to communicate just how dangerous the ground would get if Norman continued on his present course. Then he let go and left Norman to decide his own fate.

Immediately rubbing his freed left arm with his right hand, Norman had to come to a decision right quick. With both brothers looking on, the younger one in particular, Norman bowed his head and left the garage in a sulk. He slid passed Edgar without looking at him and proceeded into the house. Only when Sig heard the heavy footsteps going up the stairs and a bedroom door slam shut did he breathe a partial sigh of relief.

"He's worried about you," Edgar stated, his eyes trailing over to the frame of the doghouse.

"He has a funny way of showing it," Sig muttered, forcing a smile for Edgar's benefit. He tried to change the subject, "How was your shower?"

"Good," Edgar was not so easily distracted, "What were you guys fighting about? I've never heard Norman talk to you like that before."

"Pontiac vs. Ford," Sig figured it was enough of the truth.

Edgar cocked on eyebrow, the expression either heredity or a learned behavior from watching his oldest brother do it.

"C'mon," Sig walked up and put an arm on Edgar's shoulder, turning him around to face the kitchen, "Let's let Norman pout by himself for a while." He looked back and whistled for Daisy. Surprisingly, she answered, bounding into the garage and passed the both of them on her way to the kitchen…hammer handle in her mouth like a stick.

* * *

For the remainder of the evening, Norman kept to his room, door firmly shut. When it was time to go to bed, Sig volunteered to sleep in Edgar's room. Edgar declined the offer, insisting he had to try to get used to sleeping alone before Dad came home. And, he reminded his oldest brother, Sig need a good night's sleep for tomorrow.

With a ruffle of the kid's hair, Sig wished him a good night and went back downstairs for his last cigarette of the night and to let Daisy out one more time. By the time he locked up and came back upstairs, Edgar was sound asleep. Daisy had already curled up next to him, looking up at Sig with liquid brown eyes as he came in to check on his youngest brother. "You got this?" Sig whispered to the dog.

_Not a problem. This was what I was born to do. _Daisy rested her head on Edgar's back and closed her eyes.

Sig gave her head a pat and left the room, leaving the bathroom light on like Edgar preferred.

As he walked passed Norman's room, Sig gave serious consideration to knocking on the door and trying to talk things out with his other little brother. But he didn't want to start another argument this late at night, not that he felt he started the first one, and kept on walking down the hallway to his room.

Little did Sig know, the person on the other side of the bedroom door heard the footsteps stop and prayed he'd hear a knock. Since being sent to his room, Norman had been alternating between dark brooding, self-pity, reading, and trying to ignore the awful feeling in the pit of stomach. When the footsteps continued on, he shut out his light. Convinced he ruined his relationship with his older brother, he curling up under the covers and silently cried himself to sleep.

* * *

With the pain in his jaw nearing the excruciating mark, Sig found sleeping to be nearly impossible. He tossed and turned for an hour, worried about tomorrow's surgery. To keep his mind off of it, he thought how he was going to tell Edgar about the appointment he scheduled for him with the therapist.

The appointment was scheduled for the week after the 4th of July holiday so Sig figured he had some time to come up with an explanation. _It's not going to matter what I say, Edgar still going to take my decision the wrong way, no doubting automatically assuming I think there is something wrong with him_. Then he thought about the Mustang and bizarre course of events that led to him potentially owning a Ford, even for a brief time before he sold it. _At the beginning of the summer, if someone had told me I was going to get handed a free, brand new sports car by a known gangster, I would have told them to get lost. _

Eventually, Sig's free association led him back to Norman's hateful words.

_He told me to go to hell. Wow, he'd told me to 'F' off more times than I can count, along with some other choice vocabulary, but he's never said THAT to me before. I probably shouldn't have restrained him but I was serious about not letting him drive angry. And what the hell was he so angry about anyway? The Mustang? Does he realize how selfish that sounds?_

_So now what? Does being sent to your room for telling your 'guardian' to go to hell qualify as an appropriate punishment? Although I promised myself I wasn't going to get caught up in the comparisons, what would I have done if Edgar told me the same thing? _

_Oh, Norman didn't mean what he said. Brothers say terrible things to each other when they're mad and that's how I'm looking at this; as a brother and not as some make-shift guardian. Still, I think I should at least get an apology...that is, if I don't die tomorrow in a freak dental surgery gone wrong. _

* * *

Sig must have fallen asleep at some point because he woke up to his alarm going off at 6:00 AM. Dressing quickly, he hurried downstairs and out the back door before Phil Harris pulled up in the driveway. Phil had a habit of blaring loud music from his convertible Corvette and Sig was concerned he'd wake the otherwise quiet neighborhood if he had to wait too long.

On time, Phil showed up and Sig gladly hopped into the car.

"Thanks for doing this," Sig said as he buckled his seatbelt.

Phil flipped his long hair back and put on his sunglasses at the sun rose in the sky. "What the hell else was I gonna do today?" he asked with a smile. As he pulled out of the driveway, he chattered away, "You know, my dad once tried to pull out my tooth was a pair of pliers."

"Really?" Sig asked, although he completely believed the story. Not all of Phil's stories could be believed but Sig knew Mr. Harris well enough to know this story was likely true.

"Yeah," Phil waved his hand around the car, "But I grabbed those pliers from him and took the damn thing out myself. I don't like people rooting around in my mouth, whether I'm related to them or not."

"I know the feeling," Sig inwardly winced.

"How's your little brother?"

"Much better," Sig paused, debating on telling Phil the entire story. Unlike blabbermouth Keith, Phil had come to be a trusted friend who knew how to keep a secret. So Sig shared all the details on the ride to the surgeon's office, finishing with the police visit and getting handed the title to the Mustang.

"What do you think?" he asked his friend, "Should I sell it or forget the whole thing ever happened?" _OK, I'm just looking for validation now._

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Sig," Phil could be pretty loud when he wanted to be, "You sell the damn thing! How could you not? Do you know how much that car is worth?"

Sig opened his mouth to answer but Phil classically answered his own question, "At least $16, or 17,000. Don't sell it for less than $15. That's a lot of fucking money, you know. I could work all season and not make that much. Damn, you could take your brothers on a vacation to Hawaii with that kinda dough."

"I'm taking them on a trip," Sig laughed, "To the lake house for 4th of July."

Phil's ears perked up, "Big party at Elbow Lake, huh? You and me and a few girls had some fun up there a few years ago. Remember?"

"Vaguely…" Sig grimaced, remembering he woke up with a massive hangover and a girlfriend who lost her panties and shorts in the thick woods. He had driven Sara home with a towel wrapped around her waist and had to stop off at JCPenney's to purchase her a new pair of shorts so her parents wouldn't wonder why their daughter was coming home half naked. _That was utterly humiliating, a sixteen year old guy in the Young Miss section of a big department store_.

"Hmmm," Phil said with a suspicious gleam in his eye, leaving it at that.

In an instant, Sig knew he made a mistake by telling Phil about 4th of July. Yet, the big man was doing him a huge favor this morning and he wasn't about to accuse Phil of plotting to crash the picnic. _Picnic…Shit, if Phil shows up, he'll bring the Hillstrands with him…and if that happens, this may turn out to be party after all_.

* * *

The ride to the doctor's office was short, the wait painfully long. Phil kept Sig occupied with tales from his fishing adventures, half of which Sig knew better than to believe. Still, listening to Phil was like watching TV, you knew it wasn't real but it was plenty entertaining.

Despite the wait, all too quickly Sig was being taken back and prepped for surgery. Before the nurse shoved the needle into his vein, he sent up a quick prayer to his mother. Then, just like that, he was out. And, less than an hour later, one Hansen brother was minus four wisdom teeth…no pliers required.

~tbc


	57. Dreams

From his bed, Norman listened to Sig's considerately quiet exit of the house. Phil Harris's corvette pulling up in the driveway and then leaving was less than considerately quiet.

Sig was gone, off to his oral surgery, and Norman felt an overwhelming pang of regret that they had argued the night before. The regret he felt was intensified by the fact that the two of them hadn't made amends before Sig left.

_We fight all the time so it shouldn't be a big deal. Most of the time, after it's over, we act like nothing ever happened and just go back to being 'us.' I guess that's what brothers do. But I've never said something so hateful before. And, this time, my big brother is having surgery without me getting an opportunity to make things right…or at least getting things back to normal._

_God, I acted like an ass. First off, I'm not an idiot although I sure as hell acted like one last night. Sig asked Phil to take him today because he didn't want me missing more time at work. He did that FOR ME. He was thinking OF ME…and our family…like he always does. _

_Which leads me to the Mustang. Again, Sig was thinking of US…Edgar, Dad, me…by selling the damn thing and of keeping us afloat instead of sinking in debt. But how did I see it? Like a freaking selfish brat that felt like he 'deserved' something that wasn't his. I keep falling into this trap…I keep promising myself I won't be selfish…but apparently I have a real problem with it…that and authority figures, like Dad, the oral surgeon, and now my older brother._

_My older brother…the one that's about to get put under for surgery who I told to go to hell the night before…is probably scared and alone right now. Phil's great and all, a good friend, but he ain't family. Oh God, what if something happens? What if something goes wrong? What if…? And what if I don't ever get the chance to make things right with my brother?_

That was the last question Norman asked himself that morning. He rolled out of bed like a man on a mission. He couldn't get dressed fast enough, planning his course of action while slipping on his jeans, socks, shoes and work shirt.

Opening the bedroom door, Norman's next stop was to wake up Edgar. As it turned out, he didn't need to. He caught Edgar, dressed only in his boxers, at the top of the steps, his sheets and blankets bundled up in his arms seemingly like he was trying to suspiciously creep downstairs with them.

Startled by Norman's door opening, Edgar froze at the top of the steps like he'd just been nabbed doing something wrong.

"Hey," Norman rubbed his hands along his hair, attempting to smooth down his crew cut, "What'cha doing?"

"Nothing," Edgar muttered, walking casually down to the next step.

"Then why are you holding all your sheets and stuff like you're about to take them downstairs to the washer?" _Which there is nothing wrong with doing so why are you acting like there is? What's the big secret?_

Edgar fumbled for an answer, momentarily coming up with the most plausible reason, "Cause I am."

"Allllright," Norman said slowly, drawing out the word, "But I'd like you to get dressed first. We're kinda in a hurry."

"Why?" Edgar asked, "You don't have to be at work for another two hours."

"Just because…" Norman didn't feel like explaining their mission but decided it was best to fill Edgar in before the kid could hound him with questions. "I'm gonna call Jarrod and ask him if he can cover for me at the store this morning.

Then, you and I are headed back to the oral surgeon to get our brother and bring him home. And, after that, you get to take care of said brother while I go to work. Is that enough of an explanation for ya?"

"OK," Edgar appeared slightly confused by the sudden change of plans. _I thought Sig's friend, Phil, was taking him and bringing him back home_. Delighted by the change, Edgar attributed the confusion as just his big brothers not being on the same page. However, he had several important tasks to complete before he and Norman could leave, first and foremost was to get his sheets in the washer.

Therefore, Edgar continued to take the stairs downward towards the first floor.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Norman questioned, growing a little frustrated that Edgar was headed in the wrong direction.

"I'm…I'm gonna…gonna put this stuff in the washer and then I need a shower," Edgar announced, his voice rising as he walked further away from his brother, "Then we can go."

Edgar had made it to the first floor when Norman called over the railing in a booming voice, "Edgar, you JUST got a shower last night. Do you really need another one? We need to go."

"YES," Edgar hollered back forcefully from the laundry room.

_What is this kid up to?_ Norman thought to himself. _How dirty can a person get just sleeping?_ He shook his head with confusion, walking down the hallway and peering inside Edgar's room.

Daisy must have already taken herself downstairs because the room was empty. The bed, stripped of its sheets, lay bare with a few pillows tossed on the floor.

Norman noted that the pillows still had their covers and wondered why Edgar didn't bother to wash the pillowcases along with the rest of the bedding.

Downstairs, Edgar placed the dirty sheets and other items in the washer and started the clean cycle, adding the laundry soap almost as an afterthought. He was just so glad to have the evidence of whatever happened last night gone.

Calling Daisy's name, the cream colored lab came into the kitchen and Edgar let her out back to take care of her needs. Then the young teen raced back upstairs, grabbed some clean clothes from his room and journeyed to the shower.

Norman was at the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth.

Because they were pressed for time and Edgar knew he was pressing his luck, he swiftly jumped in the shower and hid himself behind the shower curtain. Stripping off his boxers and tossing them over the curtain rod, he finally started the shower water, gasping as the cold water hit him in the back.

Spitting out his toothpaste, Norman quietly observed this bizarre, teenage behavior. "Did you not use soap last time?"

"Huh?" Edgar asked over the sounds of the water, his teeth chattering.

"LAST NIGHT?" Norman yelled over the water, washing off his toothbrush and compounding the problem of not enough hot water being available for Edgar's showering now that the washer filling up. "DID YOU NOT USE SOAP LAST NIGHT? IS THAT WHY YOU NEED ANOTHER SHOWER?" _Typical kid stuff…I used to pull the same stunt when I was his age, especially when mom insisted I get a shower._

"Ahhh," Edgar hesitated, scanning his mind for a way to answer the question without openly lying, "No, I…ah…I…ah…missed a few spots." The kid was in the process of getting the fastest shower in his life, in direct contrast with the longest shower ever the night before. The water was icy cold and there were only a few areas on his person that he needed to clean up.

Norman's suspicions, already peeked, were heightened further by the goofy answer. _You missed a few spots? _ Rinsing his mouth with water, Norman dried off his face with the washcloth hanging by the sink and turned around, arms folded across his chest. _What's going on here?_

After a few brief moments, the shower water shut off and a shaggy headed kid with dry hair poked his head out from behind the closed curtain. He caught his brother's perplexed gaze and asked, "You still in here?"

"Yeah, I'm still in here," Norman crooned back, grabbing a towel off the rack and handing it to his brother. Softening his voice, he asked, "Edgar, are you sick or something?"

Edgar's face scrunched up with the question but he didn't answer. He simply grabbed the offered towel and quickly disappeared behind the shower curtain.

"Ummm, no. I'm just nervous about Sig, that's all," Edgar called from behind the curtain. As he towel-dried himself off, he hoped Norman would be gone by the time he stepped out of the tub.

"You're nervous about Sig," Norman repeated, adding, "So you had to get a shower before we went to pick him up?" _That's the most illogical thing I've ever heard!_

Edgar winced at the question, realizing how ridiculous this shower must seem to his older brother. Still, he wasn't about to tell Norman the real reason why the shower, along with the laundry, was a necessity this morning. "A shower…always makes me feel better." _Oh God, that sounds like such a lame excuse. _

Much to Edgar's relief, he heard Norman leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. _Thank you, God, he left!_ Next, he heard Norman on the upstairs hallway phone talking to his co-worker and getting coverage for his morning shift.

Sliding the curtain aside, Edgar climbed out of the tub and rapidly got dressed. He put on a clean pair of stone-washed denim jeans and blue and white baseball shirt from the youth league where he used to play, the blue letters BYL sewn in the front.

A speedy toothbrushing, a comb of his long hair and Edgar was out of the bathroom and back in his room to get his shoes. That was when the little brother again encountered Norman, standing in his room and feeling around the exposed mattress of his bed with the back of his hand.

"What are you doing?" Edgar asked, although he suspected Norman was checking for urine spots.

"Nothing," Norman was more perplexed than before as he touched different areas of the bed only to find them bone dry. _Alright, you didn't wet the bed and you didn't get sick so what the hell is going on with you? Why was it so crucial for you to get a shower this morning AND wash your sheets without anyone looking? There has to be a logical explanation…because there always is._

"Get out of my room," Edgar groused with no real anger or authority in his tone, only a masked twinge of embarrassment. _I haven't wet the bed since I was six._

"C'mon," Norman paused a moment, watching Edgar slip on his Nike sneakers and tie them up, all the while trying to figure out what was going on with the nervous kid. Initially, he was tempted to push the issue when a thought dawned on him. _Oh, you've got to be kidding me…Of all the mornings not to have Sig by my side to help explain THIS wonderful male adolescent phenomenon._

As Norman left the room in a hurry, Edgar called after him, "Let Daisy back in, will ya?"

"Yeah, yeah," Norman hustled his large frame down the stairs, making his first stop the small laundry room and not to the back door, which was getting scratched from the outside by a very persistent dog. He stopped the washer in mid-cycle, peeking inside and studying the mound of wet sheets and…another, small item that looked to be a pair of Edgar's boxers mixed in with the dark blue bedding. _Damn! Do I need to talk to him about THIS or should I assume he already knows? Shit, if he did, he wouldn't be acting like he just committed a crime._

Hearing Edgar's footsteps coming down the stairs, Norman let the lid shut and the washer started back up. He came into the downstairs hallway and almost collided with his little brother. Affectionately, Norman placed a hand on Edgar's upper arm, "You should eat breakfast before we leave." _And we need to talk._

"I thought we were in a hurry," Edgar innocently questioned.

Norman smiled, "I think we can spare a few minutes for milk and cereal." He continued into the kitchen and let Daisy back into the house. Then, the current 'brother-in-charge' made sure everyone had a quick breakfast; Daisy with a fresh bowl of kibble, Edgar with a bowl of Cheerios and a plain Eggo waffle for himself.

As they ate quietly, Norman sat across the table and said without a preface, "It's normal, Edgar."

The teen didn't lift his head out of his cereal bowl, just paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

Taking a deep breath, Norman made every effort to keep his voice factual and devoid of emotion. "It's called a nocturnal emission. It happens to guys your age." _And when it happened to me that first time, I ran to the school's library the next day to do some research on my own - anything to stop the panic attack I was experiencing._

Edgar continued showing Norman the top of his head but quietly put his spoon back in the soggy cereal. He played with the mushy circles, pushing them to the side of the glass bowl.

Since Edgar hadn't acknowledged him, Norman figured they were done with the sparse conversation or he had misjudged what happened this morning. He made a motion to get up from the chair when he heard a timid voice explain, "I didn't do anything to make it happen."

"It's an involuntary reaction," Norman settled back in his chair with a small smile, "It's not something we have control over. You didn't do anything wrong." _Look at that, I guessed right_.

_We?_ Edgar's head shot up, his green eyes wide with curiosity, "You mean it happens to you, too?"

_Is this part of being a big brother; having to share your most intimate and embarrassing events so your baby siblings can feel better about themselves?_ "It did," Norman nodded his head a few times, "But it stops when you get a little older, at least it did for me."

"Does it happen all the time?"

"I don't know," Norman elucidated, "It only happened to me a few times. Is this the first time it happened to you?"

Edgar bowed his head and responded with an embarrassed, "Yeah."

"Did you know this was something that could happen?" Norman struggled with phrasing the question the way he wanted, "I mean, did they explain this in school or did you hear your friends talking about 'wet dreams?"

"Nooo," Edgar hung on the 'o' in the word, an embarrassed, high-pitched tone in finishing with the word. A moment later, he tried to expand on the answer, "I thought I…"

Norman gave the kid a moment to finish, finally prompting him, "You thought what?"

Edgar shrugged, his focus still locked on the cereal bowl on the table, "I thought…I don't know…it sounds stupid."

Norman smiled sympathetically, even though Edgar was not looking at him. He reached across the table and tapped his finger on the crown of his brother's head. "Hey, I'm over here, not drowning in that bowl of cereal in front of you." _Although I feel like I am with this conversation._

Slowly, Edgar looked back up. Norman folded his elbow on the table and leaned his chin against his propped fist. Before he could chicken out, the middle brother shared a story he never told anyone.

"When I was like 12 or 13," Norman started, "I had my first…wet dream…or whatever you want to call it. I didn't remember the dream or if I even had one but I woke up with…well, you know…let's say…feeling sticky. Honestly, I thought I…broke IT…somehow."

Edgar's expression was initially blank when the story started, then he began nodding vigorously in agreement with Norman's initial reaction. Edgar could totally empathize with Norman's extreme concern of 'breaking' something quite important to him.

"ANYWAY," Norman smiled at the memory of his 12-year-old self. _Why does the shit we think when we are kids seem so funny later in life?_ "It turns out I DIDN'T break anything and EVERYTHING works just fine now…so don't worry about what happened. It will probably happen a few more times in your life and it doesn't mean a thing. I'm just sorry you were left in the dark about this stuff." The brawny guy gave his brother a crooked, slightly apologetic grin, "Maybe Sig or I should have given you a heads up."

Edgar had acquired enough information to ease his mind. _It's normal. It's happened to my brothers…or at least this big brother. And nothing's broke_. "It's fine, Norm. Thanks for telling me this stuff." The teen, still somewhat embarrassed about the topic, was inclined to change the conversation. "What were you and Sig fighting about last night?"

Glancing at the table for a moment, Norman nonchalantly got up and started clearing the breakfast dishes, "What did Sig tell you we were arguing about?"

"Cars."

"Hmmm," Norman dropped the dishes in the sink and rinsed them out, "That's about it…just a stupid argument about cars." _Of course, I highly doubt Sig told Edgar about the Mustang. The person he came to for advice or confirmation was me…just me…and I totally blew it. More like I blew my top and only thought about myself._ "C'mon, kid," he pressed his little brother, "Let's get out of here and go rescue Sig from the oral surgeon."

Again, Edgar sensed he was getting pacified with vague answers from his older brother about the heated words that took place in the garage the night before.

As the boys were leaving the house and getting in the truck, Edgar continued in his attempt to gain a more specific answer. "You guys argue about cars all the time. Why'd you get so mad this time?"

Norman climbed in the driver's side door and sighed. _Jesus, you are persistent_. He waited for Edgar to get in next to him and used the time to come up with an honest answer without giving away too much information. "Because," he started the truck and backed up off the grass, "I guess I was just stressed out about stuff and I took it out on Sig. I lost my temper and said some things I didn't mean and that I really, really regret."

"Is that why you want to pick up Sig instead of letting his friend bring him home?"

"Yes," Norman said with a deep exhale, "I feel terrible about how I reacted last night and…"

"…you want to apologize," Edgar finished his brother's thought.

"Which I should have done last night because it bothered me all night long. I felt like I had rocks in my stomach…or knots, I don't know."

"Alright," Edgar was satisfied that he now clearly understood their mission. _It's a rescue mission but Sig's not the one we are rescuing. We're rescuing Norman's conscience._ "Let's go."

Norman chuckled under his breath. _I'm glad you're on board, kid. Now let's get this boat underway._

* * *

Arriving at the oral surgeon's office, Norman assured a surprised Phil he could go home.

"Seriously, dude," Norman stated emphatically, "You can go home. Sig and I just had a miscommunication about my work schedule."

Shaking his head, causing his long locks to swish about, Phil's blue eyes widened with doubt. "You sure?" he asked, trying to remember how old Norman was. _I know he's Sig's little brother but I can't recall if there are one or two years between them. I just know he's younger and I'd feel terrible leaving these two kids here by themselves. Still, they are family and I'm not. _

"Absolutely," Norman nodded his head affirmatively, keeping a watchful eye on Edgar's nervous behavior. The kid had started anxiously pacing the barren waiting room floor, rubbing at his cheek, and looking somewhat lost. _It was a mistake to bring Edgar here. Sig knew that. That's part of the reason he didn't want me to bring him. Edgar and either one of us is a package deal. Shit…_

On a spur of the moment, Norman came up with an idea. He watched Phil turn to find his keys in his jacket pocket when he suddenly suggested, "But if you're not doing anything at the moment, maybe you could take Edgar here for a ride in your Corvette. I don't think the kid's ever ridden in a convertible before." His back to Edgar, Norman made a contorted facial expression only Phil could see, one that he hoped Phil interpreted as 'the kid needs a distraction right now and you have the perfect distraction in the parking lot.'

Phil picked up on the non-verbal message. He could see the anxious young teen was growing antsier by the minute. Even without the nerves, Phil would have been thrilled to give the kid a ride in the new car any day of the week. _Poor kid, I know what you've been through…and I know how much pain Sig was in watching you go through it._ "I'd love to take the kid for a spin in the parking lot. Hell," he conspicuously raised his voice and looked past Norman over to Edgar, "I might even let him drive it."

Norman hid a sigh of relief, grateful Phil got the hint.

Edgar got the hint, too. It was a distraction, plain and simple. Yet, what 13 year-old boy doesn't want to go for a drive in a top-down Corvette convertible on a beautiful July day? Tentatively, he felt compelled to clarify the excursion with Norman. "Are you coming?"

Norman turned around and drifted closer to his kid brother, close enough that he could nonchalantly remove Edgar's hand from his face without making it obvious. He gave the kid a brief smile, "No, I think I'll wait here. You go. Have fun. You won't be missing anything. Sig could be in surgery for a long time."

Edgar dropped his voice to just above a whisper, looking nervously over at Sig's friend, "I'm not allowed to go anywhere without either you or Sig, remember? That's why I'm here because I think otherwise you would have tried to make me stay home." There was a slight accusation in Edgar's tone that Norman did not miss.

"And would you have stayed home?" Norman cocked his head to the side.

Edgar sighed, flashing determined green eyes on his brother's face, "No. I would have come either way, just like when you went to the hospital. I hate getting left behind all the time."

Something about the phrase 'All The Time' gave Norman pause. He filed it in the back of his mind, a point to chew on later, because there was clearly an old wound that Edgar had just unknowingly exposed. "Well," Norman shrugged, "At least you're honest…hypothetically disobedient…but honest." He placed a gentle hand on Edgar's shoulder, running it along the length of his lanky arm, "You'll be in the parking lot, not running off to Disney Land. I think the parking lot is technically considered the same property as the office so we are still together."

Edgar mouthed soundlessly, "I don't want to get into trouble."

"You won't" Norman mouthed back, adding in a soft voice, "Since the real captain is in the middle of the Bering Sea and the relief captain is incapacitated, that makes me relief captain to the relief captain…so I'm running the ship right now." He couldn't help but make a joke of it, putting both hands up in the traditional double Devil Horn's pose and silently screaming, "PARTY TIME!"

Edgar's baby-face broke into a wide smile as he started laughing at his big brother's exaggerations. The laughter made his tense muscles relax and brought on a sense of calm. _Norman…what the heck would I do without him; he always makes me smile during the most stressful times_.

"OK, relief-relief captain," Edgar shifted his gaze over to the big Swede on his right, "Were you serious about letting me drive?"

"Not a chance, hotshot," Phil's icy blue eyes danced mischievously, "But I'll let you shift the gears."

"It's a stick?" Edgar asked excitedly. Both his older brothers and father all owned automatics.

Norman rolled his eyes. _I think the kid's gonna bite on the convertible aspect and he bites on the manual factor. Should've known better_.

"Yeah," Phil turned sideways, extending his arm to the exit door. "It makes you feel like you're actually driving and I wouldn't have it any other way. The more I have control over things, the better I feel. What can I say, I'm an old-school kind of guy."

Edgar took a tentative step towards the door, pausing to look back at Norman, "I'll only be gone a few minutes, right?" _Why do I feel like I'm being tricked?_

"Edgar, I'm not trying to trick you," Norman crossed his eyes, putting his hands on both of his little brother's shoulders and turning him around to face Phil and the exit door, "The only thing you're gonna miss is sitting here with me watching the clock tick on the wall. GO!" he said with a soft push to the kid's backside.

Edgar smiled at Phil as he sailed towards him and out the open door. Norman gave Sig's friend the obligatory male 'nod' of thanks and watched them both leave.

Although he could honestly say it was not planned, literally before the beefy teen could take a seat, a nurse opened the door to the back room and asked, "Is there someone here for Mr. Hansen."

"I am, ma'am." Norman straightened up from his partially seated position. _It can't be over already!_

The nurse smiled, "You're the gentleman who came in yesterday - Mr. Hansen's brother, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And is your little friend with you today."

"Yes, um. He'll be right back."

"Well," the nurse opened the door wide, "Your brother's surgery went just fine. He's in the recovery room. Would you like to go see him?"

_More than you can imagine._ "Yes," Norman took a few steps towards the door, guiltily looking back at the exit door where Edgar had just left. "Would you tell my little brother where I'm at when he returns? I don't want him to worry."

The nurse nodded her understanding, "Sure. As soon as the young man comes back, we'll bring him to you."

"Alright," Norman swallowed, finding the simple task difficult. Suddenly there was an unexplainable lump in his throat and he felt several butterflies start fighting with each other in his stomach.

As he followed the nurse, the middle brother only grew more nervous. He wanted to see his older brother and, at the same time, didn't want to see him. _It's not that I'm worried about what I said in the garage or even getting in trouble for it. I just don't know what to expect when I walk into this room. Is Sig going to be in pain? Am I going to be able to handle that? Of course I am…I have to. Man up, buttercup! _

The nurse led Norman into a small recovery room with a single cot and a plastic chair from the sixties. A single light hung over the counter with the medical supplies and the long vertical blinds were closed shut.

"He's still asleep," the nurse looked over the patient, "But he'll be waking up very soon."

As she moved out of the way and he got a good look at his sleeping brother, the lump in Norman's throat expanded, threatening to choke off his air supply. He must have let out a small, strangled gasp because the nurse turned sympathetic eyes to him.

"It looks a lot worse than it is," she said in a cajoling manner, "The swelling should go down quickly. He's young and, believe me, the younger you are when this procedure is done, the faster the recovery time."

Norman ignored the lady, pulling up the plastic chair to the edge of the bed, and staring hard at the same guy he told to go to hell the night before. Now, Sig looked like he'd just been through hell and back. His chiseled cheeks and jaw line were almost unrecognizable, swollen and darkened like he'd been punched repeatedly on both sides of his face. Hollow, dark circles plagued the lower part of his eyes and his lips were cracked and bleeding in several places.

"I'll leave you with him for a few minutes," the nurse was accustomed to family members reacting like Norman, unable to understand how their loved one could look so different in such a small amount of time, "I'll have some things to go over with you before you leave." When she didn't get an answer, she added, "OK?"

"Yes, ma'am," Norman answered robotically, eyes locked on his brother's face. He barely heard the woman leave, shutting the door to the small room.

Forcing down the lump, Norman swallowed hard. Other than looking like he'd gone fifteen rounds with Muhammad Ali on one side and Joe Frazier on the other, Sig appeared to be sleeping peacefully. His hands resting on either side of his long body, Norman scanned down to find a small needle mark in his brother's right arm.

Pulling the chair up close to the side of the cot, Norman sighed and cautiously reached out his hand. He ghosted the small bruise left by the needle, his brother's fair, Scandinavian skin always revealing each and every bump and bruise sustained. Trailing his hand down the length of his Sig's arm, Norman stopped his hand and paused, debating if he had permission to touch his brother.

Permission or not, Norman gently picked up Sig's right hand and cradled it in his own, wrapping his thumb in the space between Sig's index finger and thumb.

_Big brother…man, it's tough seeing you like this. It looks like it hurts pretty bad. Shit, I'd take the pain for you if I could. That's how much I love you. I hope you know that. And I hope you know I didn't mean a word of what I said last night. I was just being selfish and angry over our whole fucked-up situation. Without Mom around when Dad's gone, I don't know if we are still partners-in-crime or if I'm the criminal and you are the cop. The roles are so messed up right now. But I know you had every right to belt me one last night and you didn't. _

Absentmindedly, he lightly massaged Sig's knuckles with his fingertips and automatically panicked when he didn't feel Sig's ring on his finger. It took Norman a few seconds to clear his mind and remember that his brother had not worn his signature class ring in some time. _It SHOULD be on your finger. I wish you'd find it in your heart to wear it again._

Sig had not stirred with the touch or movement of his hand. Norman turned his attention back to his brother's battered face and waited, although he was unsure of what he was waiting for.

_Jesus, I knew from my friends' stories about their older brothers and sisters that shit can look pretty bad after wisdom teeth are pulled but I had no idea…_

Experiencing nervousness for several reasons, Norman began rambling in a low, soft voice, "Hey, 4th of July is in two days, bro. Summer's unofficial mid-way point, although it feels like summer just started. It goes so fast, you know. Before you can blink, it's gone and we'll be back at school…well, I'll be back at school. You'll be…off doing what you need to do."

Norman paused, reflecting on his verbal statements. "Wow," he said a moment later, "This'll be the first time I'll be going back to school without you. You've always been with me…even on my first day of kindergarten; you were on the bus, sitting next to me."

_**You've always been with me**__… Shit, I always knew the day would come when you would leave and I'd have to stay behind another year. Although the plan was always that I'd join you on the boat the following year. _

_That was our dream. Now it's just your dream._

_Things have changed. A lot has changed. Mom's gone. You're leaving soon. And I'm going to graduate from high school and go to college instead of Alaska. _

Unexpectedly, reality hit Norman hard. His best friend, brother and co-conspirator would be starting a new life without him and they would be separated for long periods of time while he was away. The silver lining Norman had always hung onto for when the time came, the thought that it was only a year and then they'd sail off together, was over. So this was how life was really going to be forever. Sig would be at sea and Norman would be on land, parallel lives that would rarely cross except for holidays and vacations.

The cold slap in the face woke Norman up to some of what Edgar had been bemoaning about all summer; big brother was leaving soon and NOTHING would be the same ever again. Even when Sig came home to visit, it wouldn't be the same – it would be a visit and nothing more.

Before his tears could start, Norman bit the inside of his lip and focused on the logic of the situation instead of the emotional side. "Well, when school starts back up, you can laugh at Edgar and me as we head out the door. I guess that's only fair considering all those years ago I got to laugh at you when you had to start school without me."

The hand Norman was holding gave his a faint squeeze and he looked closely at Sig's face. His brother's long light-colored eyelashes fluttered for a moment but the eyelids did not open. Instead, Sig murmured softly, "You cried."

"Huh?" Norman leaned closer.

Sig licked his parched lips and said a little clearer, "You cried. On my first…day…of school, you…cried. You stood at the bus stop with mom and the baby…and cried…when I left. I felt terrible leaving you like that."

"I don't remember that," Norman leaned back against the plastic chair, retaining his light grip of Sig's hand.

Opening one eye, Sig huffed a little, "You were only four-years-old."

"Well," Norman shifted his weight in the small chair, "You were only five. How do you remember?"

"Good…memory," the oldest brother groaned as he allowed his tongue to inspect all four tender incision sights in the corners of his mouth, "Just like…" he swallowed, wrinkling his nose as he tasted blood, "…I told you I didn't need you to come today."

"You're right, I didn't need to," Norman squeezed his brother's hand, "I wanted to."

Sig opened both eyes at the declaration and lifted his head slightly, staring at Norman's face and finding no evidence of sarcasm. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back against the soft pillow. _You're holding my hand…_

Squeezing back the hand in his, Sig replied, "I'm sorry. I should have asked you. I just didn't want…"

"….I know…" Norman reached over and placed his right hand on Sig's arm, "…you didn't want me to miss work and you didn't want Edgar to get dragged along somewhere where he'd get anxious waiting. I know you were thinking of what was best for us…" he paused, adding quietly, "…just like selling the Mustang is what's best for the family, even if you feel like you're going against your values in doing so."

Sig opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He felt like he'd just been hit with a Mack truck. Although his gums and cheeks were still numb, he could tell by the stretching of his skin they were extremely swollen. He was uncomfortable on the small cot designed for shorter people and, despite the 'forced nap' by the anesthesia, he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was go home. The last thing he wanted was to get into another argument about that damn car. "Norman…" he said while adjusting his gaze from the ceiling, "…can we not do this now?"

All Norman wanted to do was apologize for his behavior last night but he wisely realized now was not the time. _At least we're talking to each other_. He withdrew his hand off his brother's arm, leaving the other tightly wrapped around Sig's hand. "Alright, bro. Later."

The room grew quiet again, the boys still comfortably holding each other's hand.

A moment later, Sig lifted his left hand up to his face.

Norman stopped him. "Don't" he spoke softly, lowering Sig's left hand to his chest and away from his jawline.

"That bad?"

"Do you want the truth?" he asked, patting his brother's chest.

Sig tried to smile but was unsure if he pulled off the gesture considering he couldn't feel a thing. "Not really."

"Then you look beautiful," Norman quipped in a sincere tone.

Sig exhaled, almost like a snort or laugh, Norman couldn't tell. "How long do I have to stay here?" he asked.

Norman caught a slight vulnerability in his brother's voice, one that he didn't care to admit bothered him deeply. "The nurse said she'd be back in a few minutes so…not long, Sig, OK?" _Hang in there. I'll get you home and set you up in your own room with the TV and a little brother to wait on you hand and foot. I can vouch first hand for his efficiency with those tasks. And while Edgar is fulfilling his role of caretaker, I'll take care of everything else after work: shopping, packing, fireworks, boat, gas, etc_.

"We're still going to the lake tomorrow," Sig announced firmly as if he was willing himself towards a quick recovery. He turned his head and caught Norman's eye.

Norman shrugged, "If you're up for it. We can always leave on Saturday."

"No," Sig protested, "Edgar would be disappointed…" _My kid brother._ Trying to sit up, he opened his eyes wide, "Where's Edgar, Norman?"

A firm hand pushed him back down to the cot, "He's fine. He's with Phil. They went for a ride in the convertible but, knowing Phil, they're probably halfway to Las Vegas by now."

"If that kid gambles again before the age of 30, I'll…" Sig faltered, looking for an appropriate expression.

"You'll what?" Norman laughed.

"I don't know but I'll think of something."

"No offense, big brother, but you don't look very intimidating right now."

Sig managed to cock an eyebrow, "I could still lick you, LITTLE brother."

"Been down that road," Norman smirked, "I survived, didn't I?"

Sig squeezed his brother's hand again, "Like a champ."

Hearing approaching footsteps from the hallway, Norman looked over at the door and then back to Sig. The two of them only had a few more seconds alone and Norman felt a surge of pressure to get off his chest at least part of what he came to say.

Hastily, the middle brother said in a very low voice, "I love you. Do you know that?"

Sig's eyes softened and he started to answer when Edgar and the nurse opened the door.

Norman pulled his hand away, overly paying attention to the people walking in the room.

One look at Sig's bruised and swollen face and Edgar's eyes started filling with excessive water. He attempted to hide the quiet tears by pretending to study the stark white floor and sniffling like he had a cold, adding a few discreet swipes to his nose with the back of his hand.

"Mr. Hansen, you're awake. How are you feeling?" the nurse asked.

"Fine," Sig simply answered, aware of Edgar's hidden actions. _Don't cry, kid. Please don't cry. I'm OK._

"That's good to hear," the nurse responded cheerfully, "Now, if you don't mind, we have some things to go over." Efficiently, she explained how to treat the incisions, stressed soft foods and liquids for the next few days and, finally added the crucial blow, "No sucking on anything…straws, cigarettes, candy…"

"No smoking?" Sig asked pathetically. _Say it ain't so._

"No smoking…for at least two to three days," the nurse confirmed.

Norman chimed in, "Sounds like a good time to quit, Sig, don't you think?" _ One great thing in a sea of shit._

Groaning, the blond glared at his younger brother, "What choice do I have?" _You don't have to sound so fucking happy about it._

"And the doctor prescribed some pain medication for you."

"If it's codeine, we've already got plenty left over from my brother's surgery," Sig offered, looking to save a few dollars if possible.

"No, the pain suppressors you are getting are much stronger than that," the nurse explained. When Sig gave her a confused expression, she added, "When the numbness wears off, you're going to find out why soon enough. I suggest you take them, Mr. Hansen."

"He will," Norman and Edgar chirped simultaneously before Sig had a chance to answer.

"It seems like I'll be taking them," Sig glanced at the nurse, assuming she picked up on the fact that he was going to be well taken care of at home.

"Very good, Mr. Hansen," the nurse scanned the three brothers and noted how close in age they were. _And so young_. Yet, they seemed more mature, more aware of each other and closer than the average family. Sig had filled out the family background questionnaire the day before and the nurse had reviewed the file. She knew these boys had recently lost their mother and assumed that loss had aged them beyond their years. "I'll have everything waiting at the front desk."

* * *

Helping Sig out of the office, Edgar slipped on his brother's shoes for him.

Bemused by the turn of events, Sig watched Edgar tie his size 12 sneakers as he perched on the cot and pointed out, "This is a change of pace."

Edgar barely responded with a slight nod, apparently not feeling up to joking around about the role reversal. Frankly, he was still stunned by Sig's appearance and could only focus on the pain his oldest brother must be in.

Norman assisted Sig off the bed and, slowly, the three of them made their way out of the office, picking up the needed items at the front desk. Another large envelope was coming home with the Hansens and, as with its predecessors, this one was filled with pain medication, gauze and instructions. Unlike its predecessors, this envelope contained a plastic capsule filled with four large wisdom teeth.

Phil had waited outside by his car, wishing Sig well in the parking lot before he left and making sure the brothers got off OK.

The ride home was quiet. Norman drove, Edgar pressed to his side and as far from Sig as possible. At some point during the ride, Sig pulled down the passenger side visor and flipped open the small mirror.

"Oh my God," he exclaimed, getting a good look at himself in its reflection. _What the hell did they do to me?_

Norman leaned over Edgar and closed the passenger side visor with a solid slam, "Best not to look."

"Too late," Sig grumbled, slumping down in his seat. He noted the gap Edgar had placed between them. "You OK, kid?"

Edgar gave another slight nod as his only response, again sans eye contact or verbal answer.

"Then why are you all the way over there?" Sig gently asked. _Do I look like THAT much of a monster?_

"He's afraid he's going to hurt you," Norman stated, glancing down at the crown of Edgar's head and then over to Sig, "Trust me, I know this from experience."

Sig didn't question how Norman knew this information. Besides, Edgar's lack of denial over the statement was enough for him to know it was true. "Edgar, come here…please," the oldest brother reached out his hand and placed it on his kid brother's arm.

Offering no resistance, Edgar allowed Sig to slide him over the long vinyl seat until he found himself with Sig's left arm wrapped around his shoulders. That was all the invitation Edgar needed to burrow into his oldest brother's t-shirt and wrap his lanky arms around Sig's mid-section. He clung to his brother like he was afraid someone or something was going to take him away any minute.

"Hey, now, I'm OK," Sig said softly, "I can't feel anything."

Norman frowned out the window. _But you will._

Edgar raised his head enough to glance up and look at Sig's face. "It's really bruised," he whispered over the truck's engine.

"It will go away," Sig tipped his forehead down and let it rest on the top of Edgar's head.

"Yeah, you'll be back to your ugly self in no time," Norman chuckled, "This might even leave some much needed improvements."

"Tsh," Sig grumbled into Edgar's hair, "At least I have an excuse for not shaving for a while. What's yours, scruffy?"

"I couldn't get into the bathroom this morning," Norman defended his whiskers, running a hand along the prickly hairs coming out of his face, "Someone…" he stopped himself, catching Edgar's shoulders suddenly becoming rigid and burying his blushing face deeper into Sig's chest. "Never mind."

* * *

Sig wasn't in the house more than a few minutes before he found himself in his room, warmly tucked into his own bed. He would have laughed at the fuss Norman and Edgar were kicking up over his comfort level but he was too tired and he didn't want to hurt their feelings. In addition, he secretly liked being the center of attention…for all of five minutes.

"You want to keep these?" Norman asked as he carefully dumped the contents of the envelope onto Sig's desk.

"Keep what?"

"Your teeth, dude."

Sig hadn't even considered what to do with his teeth. Just the fact that some people apparently ripped his gums open to get them out was still being processed in his brain. He shrugged with non-commitment over the last four teeth he'd ever lose…at least, he hoped, for another sixty years or so.

"You should take the pain medicine before the numbness wears off," Norman announced, reading the aftercare instructions while sitting at Sig's desk. He shook the amber colored bottle between his thumb and fingers, "Percocet, Sig. You got the good stuff."

"Edgar," Sig looked over at the kid hanging by his doorway, "Can you go and get me a glass of water?"

The young teen had been standing in the hallway, feeling helpless and stroking Daisy's head as she sat next to him. He nodded and left Sig's view, Daisy following in his wake.

Daisy was curious about the sudden arrival of her people. She had already gotten used to their patterns of comings and goings. Typically the tall one left early in the morning, the other two leaving slightly later in the morning and then she had the house to herself for the day before everyone came home. Since they were home much earlier than expected, she sensed something was wrong and followed Edgar around the house trying to assess the situation.

"Edgar," Norman called the name loudly, "Bring some ice back with you."

"ALRIGHT!" the kid hollered back.

"Ice?" Sig asked.

"Yup," Norman turned around, holding a sling-like object between his two index fingers. "Sorta looks like a bra…for one boob."

"What the hell is that?" Sig muttered, feeling exhausted and hoping Norman would leave for work soon, and possibly take Edgar with him.

"It's to hold the ice against your cheeks," Norman demonstrated, hooking the elastic ends behind his ears and letting the fabric dangle under his chin.

Sig frowned, "You look like the ghost of Jacob Marley from A Christmas Carol."

Norman stood up and crossed the room, remembering to take the pill bottle with him, "You mean the part where the ghost came in and untied his jaw so it dangled down and scared the shit out of Scrooge." The creepy image prompted Norman to remove the sling from his chin and toss the item onto his older brother's lap.

Shuttering, Sig admitted, "That part always freaked me out."

"The ghost of Christmas Yet to Come used to give me nightmares when we were kids," the middle brother confessed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and removing two pain pills from the bottle, keeping them in his left hand. Then he closed the child-proof lid and leaned over, opening Sig's nightstand drawer.

Sig's class ring sat sadly in the front left corner of the inside drawer. The golden band with the blue stone immediately caught Norman's attention and he paused in his actions.

Observing the pause, Sig asked, "What?" He sat up slightly and looked over. "Is there is spider in the drawer, Norm?" he teased gently.

Norman huffed at the tease, finding a little courage to confront his brother with what he just found. Dropping off the bottle of pain medication in the drawer, Norman picked up the ring and held it between his thumb and index finger.

Sitting up straight, Norman held the piece of jewelry out for Sig to view. He tried to keep his face passive and emotionless but there were hints of sadness and hope that he could not disguise. "Why'd you move it? Last time I saw it, you put it in your dresser."

_Because I wanted it closer to me when I slept. How stupid is that?_ "I don't know," Sig glanced at the ring and looked away. He pushed Norman hand away from his sight, "Put it back."

Norman sighed at his brother's reaction. _Back in the drawer or back on your finger where it belongs? Don't push him. He just had surgery and he's not feeling well. Now is NOT the time…on second thought, maybe now IS the perfect time._ Instead of returning the ring to its hiding spot, Norman kept it out and in plain view. "You could wear it…"

"Norman," Sig spoke low, saying the name in a warning tone.

"Well, you could. I got to wear it after MY surgery. And Edgar's gotten to wear it when he was hurting. Wearing this ring after something bad has happened has sorta become a Hansen brother family tradition," Norman explained the logic of his thinking, "And we Norwegians are known for our traditions. Breaking the tradition now would be considered bad luck." _Go ahead, Sig, go ahead and try and argue against our strong beliefs in superstitions. Out of the three of us, you are by far the most superstitious._

His eyes narrowing, Sig scrutinized the ring and listened carefully to his brother's words. The eldest brother knew full well the meaning of traditions, particularly ones that, by design, brought forth a certain measure of comfort and familiarity. But the post-surgery liquid feeling hadn't dulled his brain to the point of such an easy acquiescence. "I broke a lot of long-standing family traditions this summer. I think I can afford to break this…" again he pushed Norman's hand and the ring away, directing it towards the night stand drawer, "…brand-new tradition…that I'm not even sure is old enough to be considered a tradition."

"It is too a tradition and one that I particularly like," Norman pushed back, keeping the ring in Sig's line of sight, a manipulative and strategic move on his part. "C'mon, Sig. Please. Put it on…JUST until you feel better. Then you can take it off and pretend you never wore it." _And, with a little luck, perhaps you'll forget to take it off at all and everything that happened surrounding the ring will be forgotten._

Concluding Norman was going to persist to the point of an argument, Sig held out his open palm.

With a wide grin, Norman deposited the ring in Sig's right hand.

The grin was obliterated a moment later when Sig leaned over, pulled open his night stand drawer and dropped the ring back in its hiding place.

Slamming the drawer shut, he sat back up, and then slid down into his bed a second later. He kept his eyes directed away from Norman's face, having zero desire to feel guilty about the disappointment he'd undoubtedly find there.

"You're a stubborn bitch, sometimes, you know that?" Norman's voice was heavy with emotion.

"And you don't understand what you're talking about," Sig closed his eyes, attempting to block out everything, including the pain that was slowly starting to seep into his jaw. "You don't understand how I feel about that ring."

"That's not fair, Sig," Norman said softly, almost whining, "I do understand, better than anyone else."

"Then you should understand why it is where it is and that's where it's staying. So stop trying to make me feeling guilty about not wearing it."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty," Norman pleaded, refusing to regret his failed attempt to get Sig to wear the ring again, "I just thought your surgery would be a good reason to put it back on without giving Edgar any misconceptions."

"Really?" Sig grimaced, "Think about that statement, Norm. Don't you think me wearing it AT ALL gives the kid misconceptions?"

"What do you think HE thinks?" Norman inquired, his eyebrows raised, "That if you wear it, you are somehow giving your approval about what he did to get it back?"

Sig opened his eyes and turned them on his younger brother, "Yes. Absolutely."

"You're wrong," Norman reached out and placed his hand on Sig's chest over his comforter, "I think…" he spoke the words carefully, "…he would think…you've finally forgiven him."

Sig sat up to argue but again didn't get a chance to say what he wanted. Edgar came back into the room carrying a glass of water, a towel and two ice packs normally reserved for their lunch coolers in his hands. Daisy was close at his heels, still trying to get a read on the unusual situation.

The bright dog had deduced that the youngest boy was not ill or hurting. As a matter of fact, she picked up on something wrong with the tall male of the family. _It isn't like the tall one to lie around in bed_. Therefore, she jumped up on the bed to get a better sniff of him.

"Daisy!" Norman admonished her as she crept closer to Sig's upper body.

"It's OK," Sig patted his side, inviting the furry creature into his space, "She can stay."

Daisy crept 'under the wire' style up to the oldest Hansen and laid down next to him, her muzzle resting gently on his ribs.

"Here," Edgar handed Sig the glass of water.

The oldest brother took the offered glass with his right hand, giving Edgar the best smile he could under the circumstances. Norman turned over the two tan colored pills to Sig's outstretched left hand. Then the two younger brothers waited.

Sig paused with both items in his hands. "This isn't going to be pretty," he warned his brothers, again wishing they'd both leave. His lips were tingly with fading numbness and he doubted he could drink anything without getting half of it down his shirt like a toddler with their first Sippy cup.

In response, Edgar produced the small towel and laid it out under Sig's chin like a bib.

"Thanks, kid," Sig said softly, glancing at the unmistakable pity on his littlest brother's face. _OK, I can see how THAT LOOK could get annoying after a while_.

Sig managed to swallow two pills, although, as he warned his brothers, it was not a pretty process. He gagged, winced from the shock of the water hitting his stitches and threw up the first set of pills onto the towel. Norman got another set as Edgar cleaned up the mess.

As his brothers were completing their tasks, Sig inexplicably began crying. Silent, warm tears started flowing from his blue eyes.

Neither younger brother commented on them but they knew they were there.

Norman gently brushed them off Sig's cheek with the back of his hand and, without a word, he handed Sig another set of pills.

Edgar brought another clean towel and deposited it where the first one had been. He, too, lightly brushed off the tears from his oldest brother's face with a shaky hand he had to force still.

It was tremendously difficult for both younger brothers to watch Sig cry but neither one wanted to draw attention to it. Norman chalked the tears up to exhaustion and frustration. Edgar chalked them up to Mom's absence in a time of need.

If he could, Sig would have told them they were both correct.

* * *

"OK, the rules are simple," Norman stated quietly in the kitchen. Sig had already fallen asleep, ice packs cradling against his jaw and pain medication matriculating into his body.

"I KNOW," Edgar whispered forcefully, "I made this mistake once already. There's no way in hell I'm making it again."

"Geez, kid, no need for language," Norman rolled his eyes as he made himself a quick lunch to go.

"YOU weren't the one that got his backside roasted for letting someone in the house where no one was allowed over," Edgar adamantly explained.

"On the contrary, I sure as heck got my backside roasted, more than once, I might add, for having company over when they were not allowed." _Female company, that is…Oh, but it was worth it…except for that appalled look on Mom's face_.

"Well," Edgar said with a cocky smile, "I'm learning from MY mistakes. No one is allowed over. I'm not allowed out. Be as quiet as possible. I totally got this! I'm not blowing it this time."

"Soft foods only…like Jello or warm soup. AND NO SMOKING! Remind him of that or I WILL when I get home. I have complete faith in you, little brother," Norman offered the young teen an encouraging smile, "Sig will probably sleep most of the day so just check in on him once in a while." He hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of uncertainty over leaving Sig in Edgar's care. _It's not that I think that Edgar can't handle it. It's just that I can't help but feel like this is my responsibility and I'm pushing it off on a 13-year-old kid. I'm sure Sig must have felt the same way when I had my surgery and he had to go to work. I wonder if Dad felt like this when he left the both of us and the house in Sig's care_.

"Just…" Norman paused, "…just call me if you need anything, OK?"

"I will," Edgar affirmed, "What time will you be back?" The question had a hint of nervousness and apprehension attached to it. _Now that you're leaving, I don't want you to go._ Some of Edgar's earlier bravado crumbled with self-doubt. _Maybe I can't handle this. I screwed this up before. I don't want to screw it up again_.

"As soon as I can," Norman mentally rearranged his plans, deciding to put off picking up the needed items for the lake until tomorrow morning. _I highly doubt the store will run out of hot dogs and fireworks between now and then._

The middle brother packed up his lunch and walked over to the back door, temporarily putting the bag down on the counter. Then he walked over and lightly grabbed his kid brother by the arm. "Come here for a minute," he whispered as he pulled out a chair and sat his big frame on top of it.

"You're gonna be late," Edgar whined slightly, expecting he was in for some kind of long lecture about behaving himself.

"I'm already late," Norman pulled his brother over and pushed him down to a sitting position on his thigh, "Besides, it's only 9:30. I didn't expect Sig to be out of surgery so quickly so I'm covered till noon."

Edgar offered mild resistance to the affection, although it was for show purposes only. He finally settled his backside on Norman's leg and leaned into the big guy's side, resting his cheek against his older brother's work shirt.

Norman wrapped his muscular arm around his brother's back, "Listen to me. You did a great job of taking care of me when I was sick. Heck, if I didn't know any better, I would have sworn Mom was the one taking care of me."

It was so rare for Norman to mention their mother that Edgar pulled back and looked at his brother with surprise.

"It's true," he continued, "So I know you can do this. And, I'm positive Sig will be much easier to deal with than me. He won't fight you about what he can and cannot eat and he'll take his medication like the good boy that he always was."

"He wasn't ALWAYS good," Edgar leaned his chin on Norman's shoulder, "Did he ever tell you about taking the car out without a license?"

Norman gave a hearty laugh, "Yeah, I know a lot more about our older brother's transgressions than you do. OK, he wasn't always a good boy but he was when it came to being sick. Mom used to say he was the one that was the easy to deal with when we were sick."

"What did she mean by that?"

"I…" Norman sighed, "I think she meant that when we were sick, Sig needed the least amount of attention from her. I think it was because he always knew that she had two younger kids to deal with and, being the oldest, he probably sacrificed the time she would have spent with him so that she could tend to us."

"That makes me…sad…really sad," Edgar confessed, "It's like he's been sacrificing for us his whole life."

"He has," Norman agreed, "That's why…" he pulled back to look Edgar in the eyes, "…when the time comes for him to leave for the Big Blue Bering Sea, we…YOU AND I…are gonna LET HIM GO…WITHOUT tears or big, drawn out goodbyes."

Edgar inhaled sharply, and then let out a small gasp. _Norman is right_. It was going to be one of the hardest things Edgar would ever have to do. But he was going to have to find a way to watch his oldest brother walk out the door without breaking down in tears and begging him to stay. Because to do otherwise would only make Sig feel horrible about finally getting what he worked so hard for all his life. _And I can't do that to my brother, not after all he's done for me this summer._

But the thought of Sig leaving still reduced Edgar to tears and he had no idea how he could ever hide such powerful emotions as the time grew closer.

As the kid began to cry, Norman caressed his hair and let him bury his face in his shoulder, "Oh, don't get me wrong. You and I will cry…a lot…but only to each other. We're just not gonna let Sig see it, that's all.

We'll put on big smiles and we'll be genuinely happy that his dreams of being a captain are starting to come true…because we are. We ARE happy for him. This is his big dream. It's what HE wants. And it shouldn't be about what WE want. It's time we start thinking about him for a change. Make sense?"

Norman felt Edgar nod against his chest and was pleased that the kid seemed to understand what he was trying to say. _I'm not crying this time. When the bus pulls away with my brother on it, this time, I'm not crying_.

~tbc


	58. In A Sea Far Away

**Warnings: see all previously posted warnings**

**elskling - English translation 'my love.'**

* * *

**Somewhere in the Gulf of Alaska…**.

As Sig slept through the day and into the night, recovering from his wisdom teeth extraction, the seven-year-old, pure white F/V Northwestern bobbed around in the calm, dark waters of Bristol Bay. The night sky was filled with thousands and thousands of stars, as far as the eye could see, without a single cloud to obscure them. A soft breeze blew from the west, whipping through the deckhands' hoodies and causing them to draw the pull strings ever tighter around their faces.

Salmon fishing was a tedious, mundane venture filled with long days and even longer nights. The only consolation was that the summer weather was often calm and the men didn't have to contend with the brutally bitter cold of winter or the hazards of the ice.

The Halogen lights hummed loudly as they illuminated the four men on deck and gave the seagulls an advantage in swiping a left over bait fish or two. The men, exhausted and physically drained, kept their spirits up by talking to each other about their families and lives on shore while they pulled pots and sorted their catch. The deep rumble of male laughter could be heard every so often as they shared embarrassing stories of loves lost and previous greenhorn mistakes from their youths.

As the men kept busy, the oldest deckhand would give an occasional sideways glance towards the pitch dark wheelhouse. The deckboss, if you could call him that, had worked for Sverre long before the Northwestern was ever commissioned. This seasoned deckhand had survived the sinking of the F/V Foremost, Sverre Hansen's first fishing vessel, and the Captain had saved his life that night.

That had been years ago when the now paunchy, pre-diabetic middle aged Captain was younger and in better physical shape. But he saved his life and the deckboss had stayed with him all these years. Therefore, the deckboss felt a deep sense of loyalty to his salty Captain.

Since his return to the sea, the more experienced deckhands immediately noticed a huge shift in their Captain's demeanor. Prior to the death of his wife, Sverre was a brute of a Captain, a harsh taskmaster who knew when to break out the whip and when to use it. More often than not, he grounded the men's noses to deck before he'd let them have a break. His voice was always coming over the loudhailer, laying into his men like a commander of an army battalion.

But as with any good leader, he cared for his guys. Secretly, he'd give part of his Captain's share to pad their end of season settlements when the fishing season was poor or if he knew one of his guys was down on this luck. And, despite the pressure to produce a large catch, Sverre stressed safety first and always, often times pulling the men off deck during monster storms even when the fishing was hot. During rare, quiet moments of downtime, each deckhand had experienced, at least once, a fleeting, encouraging smile and awkward pat on the back from the Captain.

This season, the Captain came back to the sea a different man. He was sullen, reserved, distracted and withdrawn. He rarely came out of the wheelhouse. He barely used the loudhailer unless it was necessary. He no longer ate meals with the guys. When he was not sleeping, he was quietly sitting up in his darkened wheelhouse like a lone sentinel guarding his ship.

So this was how it was on the night of July 2, 1984 in the middle of the Gulf of Alaska. The men were working, enjoying each other's company and praying to go back to shore with a safe, successful and short trip under their belts. In contrast, the lonely Captain sat alone in his wheelhouse, his mind ruminating over the house bills, the cost of repairing the boat, the lousy season and, finally, his boys.

* * *

Sverre's mind wondered aimlessly over the same issues, cycling through his worries with finances, his sons' hospital bills and occasionally cursing the fate to which he was now resigned. When the season ended, for the first time, he'd have to return home to a house with no beloved wife waiting for him by the back door. As much as he wanted the season to be over, that incomprehensible thought made him wish the season would never end.

Words could not express how much he missed her. She was everything to him, his equal, his better half that made up for the many qualities he severely lacked. There were days he didn't know how he'd go on living without her. If it were not for the boys, he probably would have spent the rest of his days in a drunken stupor till the alcohol destroyed his organs and he could join her in eternity.

But she loved their boys more than life itself and he knew she'd come back from the grave and haunt him if he let the family fall into financial despair.

As Sverre went through the motions of adjusting the throttle and hand recording his catch by the one dim light on the dash, he caught the men below talking about the upcoming 4th of July holiday. It would be another holiday they spent away from their families, a common occurrence to which they had become accustomed.

Concerned about other, more serious matters, the Captain couldn't care less about the holiday. However, the reminder of the day infiltrated his thoughts and his mind flashbacked to another time, another 4th of July he missed with his family and only got to hear about when he returned from a previous summer Salmon season.

********Sverre's flashback********

**Late July 1980**

"Those two boys are thick as thieves," Mom whispered in the darkness of their bedroom, "I swear, they're gonna be the death of me."

Sverre held his wife in his arms, breathing in the scent of her hair as she lay her head on his chest. He'd just returned that evening from a long trip at sea and the two of them had made passionate love twice before satisfying their appetite for each other. As the man was enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking, the last thing he wanted to do was discuss 'The List' he'd come home to find magnetized to the refrigerator.

"Hmmm," he murmured as he stroked his wife's long, flaxen hair.

"Drinking! At their age!" Mom exclaimed, "I couldn't believe it."

The man hid a grin in the darkness of their bedroom. His two oldest boys, 14 and 13 respectively, were well below the legal age for alcohol consumption. But his beautiful wife was naïve when it came to her boys and their mischief. Each and every time they committed a serious infraction of the rules, she was aghast to find out they were not the angels she always thought them to be.

Sverre himself had experimented with alcohol long before the age his boys were now so he was not the least bit surprised the two scamps sleeping down the hallway managed to slip away at the 4th of July party and get themselves drunk.

"I should have taken them to the lake," she shook her head against her husband's chest, "I should have never let myself get talked into taking them to that Community Day party at the park. But Edgar so wanted to see the big fireworks display and I didn't want to disappoint him."

"Humph," Sverre acknowledged his wife's reasoning. Clearly, she'd been carrying around this information for a month and desperately needed to get it off her chest. Therefore, the Captain settled in and reconciled himself to listening to the story in its entirety.

"I don't know how I ended up getting roped into helping the Women's Club with their food stand but you know I can't say no to those things. They do such good for the community and the proceeds go to the elderly."

"Yes, elskling,"

"So, of course, Edgar wanted to stay and help me. Even though he's only nine, he did a pretty good job of serving the customers. That boy has a way with people. He's going to do something special in this world, I just know it."

Sverre could feel the pride radiating off his wife. He knew she loved her boys but she had a certain soft spot for her baby.

Mom's voice changed from one of admiration and unconditional positive regard to one of annoyance and disappointment, "But those other two…God help me, my love, but they are sorely testing my patience."

_More like they are pushing their limits_. The man simply hugged his wife tighter, giving her his much needed support and strength. She was the strongest woman he'd ever known, so often having to raise her family, take care of the house and manage life on her own for long periods of time. But when he'd come home from a long trip, he could sense her veiled vulnerability, as if she could finally let down her guard now that she had someone to lean on.

"Sig and Norman helped out at the stand for a while but, as the day wore on, they got bored. Of course, Sigurd started picking on Edgar, hiding the soda cans and distracting him while he counted out the coins for change. Needless to say, when Sigurd's friends came by and he begged me to let him go off with them, I gladly said yes. When Norman asked if he could go with Sig, darn if that boy didn't start complaining about his younger brother tagging along. I gave Sigurd one look and he knew better than to keep up with that nonsense!"

_I have no doubt. My oldest may have a lapse in judgment from time to time but he knows better than to mess with his mother when she gets 'THAT LOOK.' _

"So Norman and Sig went off with their friends and I got busy working at the stand. Before I knew it, it was getting dark and the fireworks were going to start. I left the stand with Edgar and searched the entire park for those boys. I was starting to get really worried. They should have checked in with me. I told them to do that."

"I'm sure you did, sweetheart."

"It took me 30 minutes to find them," she huffed, "AND what did I finally come across? Two drunk kids that had been drinking beer with their friends in the grove. I tell you, if Edgar hadn't been with me, I would have strangled those two on the spot. DRUNK! AS SKUNKS! They could barely walk back to our blanket and chairs. I had to lie to Edgar and tell him his brothers had too much cotton candy and that's why they were acting so sick. You know I hate lying, Sverre. I just hate it."

"Yes, honey."

"As sick as they were, I made them sit there and wait until the fireworks were over. I wasn't about to let them ruin the night for their baby brother. Then I brought them home, put Edgar to bed, and spent the night cleaning up their vomit and soothing them to sleep."

Sverre smiled to himself again. As furious and disappointed as his wife was that night, she still comforted and took gentle care of her two drunken scoundrels.

"Sigurd should have known better than that, especially with Norman being there. How could he let his little brother get drunk like that?" Mom asked.

"Ha, it could have easily been Norman getting Sig drunk," Dad surmised, "That boy is something else!"

"Still," Mom countered, "Sigurd is the oldest. He's the one who should have been responsible. I tell him all the time that he MUST take care of his younger brothers, look out for them and be a good role-model. I don't know if that young man is listening or not so I tell him almost every day. One of these times, it's going to sink in!"

"He knows," Sverre simply answered.

"The next day, the two of them were hung over as seasick cats," Mom made a small fist and pressed it firmly against her husband's broad chest, "But I woke them up early and put them out in the yard for hours worth of weeding. That should teach them not to do something so dangerous ever again."

Sverre knew what was coming next. This was the part of the process he specifically dreaded. Without fail, every time he'd come home to see a 'List' on the refrigerator with some ink on it, he had to prepare himself for the inevitable guilt his wife felt over handing off her boys for his punishment. His soft-hearted wife would cleanse her soul, bare her anger and disappointment regarding the incident or incidents, and then begin to backpedal on putting her boys' names and mischievous behavior on 'The List.'

"Perhaps that was enough…for them to learn," she asked as she softened her voice, "And I've lectured them every day since. For close to a month, I've told them about the dangers of drinking at their age, explained how it can cause so much trouble in the future, how I expect so much more from them, how…"

Even Sverre stopped listening to his wife's underage drinking lecture so he doubted his sons had been paying adamant attention to it for weeks on end. _They probably tuned her out on the first go-around._ From the two sets of downcast eyes he saw at the dinner table tonight, the man safely assumed his two oldest boys understood full well that a few hours weeding and their mom's pleading words weren't going to cut it. They both knew this was a big offense and so did he. And somewhere deep inside, his wife knew it, too, otherwise 'The List' would be a clean piece of paper with a whole lot of eraser marks.

_But, she's going to ask me anyway. Any minute, it's coming_…

"Sverre," she inquired timidly, "Do you have to spank them?"

"All three of our boys know that there are consequences to their actions," the man said gently, hoping this answer would ease his wife's conscience. Sometimes the concise answer worked and sometimes it didn't. He held his breath, waiting for the argument.

Luck was on the tired man's side. His wife remained quiet. He took it as a sign of affirmation.

"I'll deal with them after breakfast," he said with a yawn, "I think they've sweated it out long enough." _I hate this. I truly do. I hate coming home and having to punish my boys for something that happened weeks ago. But I married a woman who just cannot handle the physical aspect of punishment and those boys need a firm hand in life or God knows what would happen_.

"Alright," she whispered, stretching her neck up to kiss his dried lips. Although the boys didn't, she knew how difficult it was on her husband to punish their children. Just once, she wished he'd let the boys see that instead of crying to her privately afterwards. _Maybe if they knew how much their father loves them and hates punishing them, they'd behave themselves more. Oh, who am I kidding?_

* * *

That morning, Mom and Edgar left the house after breakfast. The baby brother knew his older brothers did something wrong, he just didn't know what. The List only read "4th of July party" under Sig and Norman's names each. All he could remember from that day was that his brothers had too much cotton candy and got sick to their stomachs. The perceptive nine-year-old made a mental note not to eat too much candy because apparently mom really didn't like cleaning up vomit.

With Mom and Edgar gone, Sig and Norman sat on the living room sofa, hands folded in their laps and chins almost touching their chests. The TV played low in the background, although neither one of them were watching it.

Sverre was still in the kitchen, finishing breakfast.

As they heard the man get up to clear his plate, Sig fidgeted against the back of the sofa. He licked his braces with his tongue, feeling the spit drain from his mouth.

"Sorry," Norman whispered, "This is my fault."

"Naw," Sig started to wring his hands together, "I should have known better. Those kids are losers. I don't know why I wanted to impress them."

"But I started drinking first."

"I should have stopped you and got us both out of there."

From the kitchen, the pantry door opened. Both boys turned and looked at each other in sympathy, more worried about the other one than themselves.

"NORMAN!" Sverre bellowed from the kitchen, closing the pantry door with a thud.

Norman sighed, giving Sig a brave smile and a false shrug of indifference. Then he stood up and left the living room, headed towards the kitchen.

Sig turned up the volume on the TV, attempting to block out the impending sounds and feeling like the worse big brother in the world.

The middle brother walked into the kitchen to find his father standing by the end of the kitchen table, a long, brown leather strap doubled over in his right hand. He desperately wanted to plead his brother's case, perhaps find a way to lessen Sig's sentence. "Sir, this isn't Sig's fault. I was…"

Sverre held up his hand, palm flat.

Norman wasn't so easily deterred. It wasn't going to matter anyway but he was willing to try.

"But, sir, please…"

"Norman," Sverre growled the name. _Don't make this worse for yourself, boy_.

Norman had to bite his tongue to keep from speaking. Defeated, he kept silent.

Sverre simply pointed to the kitchen table. Norman took this as a good sign that he'd get to leave his jeans on. Obediently, he bent over the table and grabbed the sides, bracing himself.

"Eight," was the last thing he heard before the belt snapped against his backside. Seven firm licks of the strap later and Norman felt like his backside was on fire. Sverre had worked his way down his bottom with the strap, paying particular attention to the last three licks to his lower bottom and thighs.

Norman had gritted his teeth and remained perfectly still, taking his punishment stoically. He pushed the tears back and refused to cry until Sverre told him 'Let's not have this conversation again' and effectively dismissed him.

"Yes, sir," Norman said as he got up and quickly bolted out of the kitchen into the garage, going as fast as he could without running.

Sverre shook his head, wondering if any of what just happened mattered at all to his outspoken middle child.

He reached over and closed the door between the kitchen and the garage.

"SIGURD!"

A second later, a very apologetic and guilty-looking oldest brother entered the kitchen.

Sverre pointed again to the table. Sig was completely silent and made no attempt to justify or minimize his behaviors. His father always seemed to be in such a hurry to get this over with and in such a hurry to leave once it was over. The blond boy would have given anything to explain to his father that he knew he messed up and that he was terribly sorry. But those things didn't happen in the Hansen household and Sig simply resigned himself to his well-deserved fate.

The oldest brother bent over the table, letting his head rest on the wood and studying the swirly wood designs.

"Ten."

The belt snapped over the teenager's backside and he flinched once, recovering quickly and taking the next nine in silence. Sverre really let him have it and the oldest brother sensed there was more of a message there than just not to drink at such a young age. It was the same message Mom had been trying to get across most of his life. He was the oldest. He was responsible. He had to take care of his little brothers and he had failed.

Sverre gave his son a good licking and told him emphatically he did NOT want to have this conversation again. He wished his sons understood just how much he meant those words each and every time he said them. Then, he returned the strap to its place on the nail in the pantry and slumped out of the kitchen, feeling like the worse father in the world.

********End Flashback********

It was a painful memory for the Captain. _Damn it, all those lickings I handed out are painful memories. Now, even memories of my wife are painful. But what's more painful is that I should have told my boys how much I love them when they were younger. But I just wasn't raised like that and, honestly, I don't know how to be soft with them. Men of my age and background weren't given a lot of affection as boys but I turned out OK. But it doesn't mean I didn't want more as a child and I should have given that to them. Instead, I left that up to their mother and now she's…_

Pushing the sad thoughts away and concentrating on his work, the last thought he gave to the matter was for his oldest son._ God, I can only hope that I made a different in my oldest son's life. He's a man now but he's still so young. I left him in charge of so much and I need him to come through for me, hold the family together until I can get back. I hope that I taught him right from wrong and that he must take care of his family at all costs. Please, my angel, watch over our boys until I can get home. I miss you, my love._

_~tbc_


	59. Disturbing The Peace

**Warnings: Strong language, adult situations**

* * *

_MILK BONES! What is this place? The new smells, the soft sounds, the wide open spaces…did I die during that long truck ride and end up in doggy heaven?_

With her nose firmly to the ground, Daisy scoped out the landscape and her new surroundings. Normally an obedient canine, with too much sensory overload, she blatantly ignored Norman's call for her to return to the truck.

"DAISY!" the middle brother hollered at the top of his voice.

_No way am I coming back there, big guy. I've been cooped up in that pick-up truck for an eternity. I'm exploring…_

"Edgar," Norman looked around the back of the truck to find his younger brother unloading the supplies, "Keep an eye on the dog, will ya?"

"Sure, but don't you need help bringing this stuff inside?" Edgar asked in a whisper, leaning to his right, looking beyond the truck and watching their oldest brother drag himself inside the house.

Norman followed his brother's gaze and winced in sympathy. Sig moved like a man in pain, a wobbly gait revealed just how medicated he was.

"I got it," Norman explained as he gently moved his youngest brother out of his way, "Once I get it all unpacked, we'll give Sig some quiet time alone in the house. We can go swimming. There's still a few more hours of light."

Edgar nodded, moving out of the way for his brother. He kept an eye on Daisy's wanderings, making sure she didn't go too deep into the woods. Eventually, the cream-colored lab drifted closer to the dock, taking a step up and following the worn wood to the edge. She stopped at the end of the pier, hanging her head and long ears over the calm water and studying the fish jumping below her. _Fresh fish!_

"Norman, do you think Daisy knows how to swim?"

Norman slid out the cooler containing their food for the next three days with a grunt, "All dogs know how to swim, kid. It's a natural born instinct. But some dogs don't like the water."

"Hmmm," Edgar muttered, "I think our dog does."

Norman turned around, cooler in his hands. The two younger brothers watched Daisy back up to the middle of the dock, run full speed and take a flying leap into the water. With a resounding splash to disturb the otherwise serene setting, Daisy found out she wasn't much of a fisherman.

The fish all scattered and she came up empty pawed. But what she did find out was that her webbed feet were perfect for swimming and she finally found something more exciting than chasing the ball.

* * *

_I should have stayed home…._

It took Sig several tries to get the key into the lock. His vision was spotty at best and he felt like a drunken sailor on pay day. For the past 36 hours, he couldn't decide which was worse; the pain in his gums or the pain medication that made him dizzy, tired and nauseous.

After sleeping most of the day yesterday, Sig laid around the house this morning, watching Norman and Edgar pack for the lake. He felt lousy, partly because he couldn't help and partly because he felt like shit. But, stubborn modern Viking that he was, when it was time to leave, he hauled his miserable backside off the sofa and headed to the truck.

The two hour ride squished between the open window and his baby brother was unpleasant, made more so by the slobbery dog sitting on his lap with her head hanging out the car window. He did his best to suffer in silence and listen to Norman's favorite country radio station without complaint.

"Fucking lock," the blond grumbled as the key finally slipped in and turned the tumbler.

Opening the door, the first place Sig sought out was the sofa. He flopped down, spreading his long legs along the length of the couch and not bothering to remove his shoes.

_I'm so fucking done with those pain pills. I can't take feeling like this. I'd rather be in pain. _

Although the swelling of his cheeks had subsided and the broken capillaries from where his skin was stretched had started to rapidly fade, the oldest brother felt like death itself. He had changed the bloody gauze packed in his gums this morning, the rancid smell something akin to how his retainer would stink when he skipped cleaning it for a few nights.

Sig stared up at the cabin ceiling, realizing he would be just as miserable at home as he was here. The lake house was a second home for the family and just as comfortable as the real thing. He was just going to find a way to enjoy this weekend with his brothers and their friends and ignore the pain and discomfort. _A cigarette would help but I can't even do that._

"You want some tea or something?" Edgar asked as he came in carrying his duffle bag.

"No," Sig answered, "I'm just going to lay here for a while…until the room stops spinning."

Norman came through the front door after switching on the electricity from the back of the house. "Are you OK with me putting the boat in the water?" he asked his older brother.

"As long as you think you can handle it," Sig eyeballed him from his place on the sofa.

"Humph," Norman snorted, slightly insulted at the implication that he couldn't get the boat safely into the lake.

* * *

That was the last conversation between the three of them for the next half hour. Sig listened as Edgar made up the king size bed in the bedroom and unpacked their things in the dresser and bathroom. He also heard Norman unpacking the groceries in the small kitchen and fixing up a quick dinner. Sig also figured out that Daisy must have been tied to the porch, safe in the shade and enjoying a fresh bowl of water and kibble.

When dinner for the humans was served, Sig passed on supper.

"Sig, you have to eat SOMETHING," Norman chided, carrying a plate piled high with Pork BBQ and chips out to the breakfast table by the window, "I'll heat up what's left of Edgar's soup. It'll only take thirty seconds. It's not good to take those pain meds on an empty stomach."

_Damn, you sound like mom._ "I'm not taking them anymore so it doesn't matter," Sig said, eyed closed off to the fading light streaming into the cabin, "They're making me sick. I don't want to think about food right now."

"I packed the Pepto-Bismol," Edgar offered, coming out of the bathroom and walking his way through the one floor cabin.

"You packed the entire medicine cabinet," Norman laughed, turning his attention to Sig, "The kid even packed the Band-Aids and Calamine Lotion."

"And if you fall into a nest of mosquitoes, you'll know who to thank, Norm," Sig stated, opening one eye and scanning his youngest brother. Packing up the medical supplies like they were going to war in a foreign country was something their mother did for each and every vacation. The oldest brother was touched that Edgar had picked up on the tradition that once belonged to their mother. He knew it was something he and Norman would never think about doing.

Edgar continued on his way to the kitchen, helping himself to dinner. He'd never tell his brothers packing up all the medical supplies was his way of looking out for the two of them. Although they were bigger, smarter and stronger, Edgar was determined to find his own way to protect them and this was one of those little ways.

Sitting down across from Norman, the youngest brother glanced over at Sig, "We're going to go swimming in a little bit. You want to come?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Sig tried to offer the kid a smile.

"Amanda's coming tomorrow morning," Norman said, more to himself than anyone else.

Sig hoped that Norman remembered his promise to behave himself and keep his lustfulness under control, "You gave her directions?"

"Yup," the middle brother answered, a small amount of BBQ sauce dribbling down his chin.

"And Nick?" Sig asked.

Norman's shoulders straighten and he hesitated before answering. Finally, he grunted something that sounded like a 'yes.' _If it wasn't for Edgar's friend, I would have liked to give the guy directions to the South Pole. I can't explain why I don't like Nick…I just don't. And Amanda and Nick weren't the only phone calls I made. _

"Edgar, are you excited to have friends coming this time instead of getting stuck with your boring older brothers yet again?" Sig queried, trying to sound enthusiastic for the kid's sake.

"You guys are NOT boring," Edgar said sensitively, "But it will be nice to show Matt and Sally the lake. And they'll get to see the fireworks tomorrow night…" the kid's voice drifted off, his inner thoughts steering to his newly developed fear of loud noises, especially those that mimicked gunshots.

_Fireworks!_ "Norman," Sig sat up suddenly, regretting the quick movement a second later, "Did you get fireworks?" The oldest brother tenderly grabbed his head.

Norman chuckled at what he considered to be an absurd question, "Of course I did. It's the 4th of July."

"Good," Sig relaxed, laying back down. _Edgar loves fireworks and this is the one time of the year he gets to see them. I'd feel like the worse 'parent' in the world if I denied him this one pleasure because I was too sick to go to the store. Man, Norman's really has had my back these last few days. I never realized grounding Edgar to our sides would prevent me from spending some quality time with my best friend but I owe him tickets to a Mariner's game someday soon…too bad I can only afford the nose bleed seats._

Meandering thoughts of Norman and himself watching a night game under the lights of the Kingdome put Sig in a peaceful state and he drifted off to sleep before Edgar could finish cleaning up from dinner.

* * *

As the light faded over the trees, Sig woke up from his nap feeling more like himself despite the pain in his jaw.

Hearing his brothers splashing in the water, he got up and, after a drink of water, headed down to the lake.

The long summer sun was finally setting behind the trees and the crickets were warming up for the nightly symphony.

Coming closer to the water's edge, Sig had to laugh at Daisy's jubilance over her two favorite things, swimming and her beloved tennis ball, getting combined into one game.

As Edgar waded neck-deep out in the lake, Norman would throw the tennis ball out to him. Then, a very athletic, drenched dog would then come bounding down the dock, slipping a little on the wet wood, and leapt high above the water before splashing down. At that point, it was a race between Edgar and Daisy to see who got the ball. Edgar would either win or wrestle the ball from Daisy, throwing the ball back up to Norman. Daisy would valiantly swim back to shore to get the ball herself and Norman would wait until she got close before he threw it out into the lake again.

The simple game of monkey in the middle, the monkey being a four legged canine, had been going on for over an hour. Occasionally, Norman and Edgar changed places but the mutt always got stuck in the middle.

Daisy didn't seem to mind, though. In her opinion, if there is a heaven for dogs, this is it. _I have NEVER been happier in my whole life than I am at this very moment_.

As they watched Daisy and Edgar wrestle for the ball, Sig and Norman stood next to each other and smiled. Life was perfect here. There was something about being close to the water that made them feel at home, at peace.

"Feeling better?" Norman asked as he took a seat at the end of the dock. His swim trucks were heavy with water, making the crest of his muscular backside stick out a little as the hem of the garment slipped down. _It's nice to see you out here._

"I don't know if I'd call it better but at least the fog surrounding my brain has lifted," Sig lamented, removing his shoes and socks and taking a seat next to his brother. With his long legs, he could almost reach the water with his toes.

"You know," Norman began mischievously, "If you were wearing your ring, I wouldn't have to ask." He avoided Sig's gaze like the plague, staring intently at the setting sun.

"You're not gonna give up, are you?" Sig grumbled.

Norman flashed one of his infamous smiles, the ones where his cheeks crinkled into his eyes, "Have you ever known me to give up on anything?"

Sig deeply exhaled, admitting simply, "No." He observed his kid brother and the young Labrador swimming out a little further than he was comfortable with. "Hey," Sig yelled, projecting his voice in the vastness of the tranquil space, "Not so far, Edgar."

Edgar, too busy with the dog to notice his oldest brother had ventured out of the cabin, was startled by the deep voice. He looked up, smiling, and was not the least bit offended by the overly protective nature of his brother. Simply stated, he was just very pleased Sig came outside at all.

"Alright," he yelled back, the young voice echoing off the trees. He waved and both his brothers waved back. Then he laid on his back, floating underneath the clouds with Daisy's head and her favorite ball resting on his chest. He supported her stomach with his arm so the both of them could do the 'dead man's float.'

For Edgar, the last trip to the lake had been spent trying to forget about the lies he told his oldest brother and the promise he broke in returning to the Shack, albeit under the guise of blackmail. Now, all that was behind him, and the thirteen-year-old could just relax and enjoy the peaceful surroundings without feeling like an axe was dangling above his head. _Here…where it's quiet…in this place…I miss Mom more than ever. But I feel like being here brings her closer to me somehow. I wonder if she's up there…in heaven…maybe behind that cloud._

"Kid looks happy," Norman remarked from the dock.

Sig dropped his gaze to his jean covered knees and brushed off some non-existent crumbs from the fabric. "That's all I ever wanted," he whispered in the stillness of the pine scented air, "For you and him to be happy." _I know you would be happier with a new Mustang sitting in our driveway but that's just not going to happen_.

"What about you?" Norman whispered back without missing a beat, "Are you happy?"

_Such a simple question…asked with more emotion than I'm used to hearing in Norman's voice…and I'm not sure how to answer that. Putting the pain in my jaw aside, am I happy…really happy? I could be happier, sitting in the wheelhouse of our family boat. And I would be extremely happy if I'd wake up and find out the last six months of my life were just a dream and that Mom was alive and still with us. But, the reality of my life is something far different and I've had to learn to be happy with what I have left._ "Yeah," he stated softly, finally looking up and over at the same colored eyes as his own, "I'm happy. I think Mom would have wanted us to find a way to be happy without her."

A soft moment passed between the two oldest brothers and Norman, ever the opportunist, took his chance. "Sig," he said heavily, "About the other night…"

"Come on," Sig looked away, nudging his brother with his shoulder, "You don't have to…"

"Yes, I do," Norman said with a determined look, nudging his brother back with a little more force than he intended, "You were the one who told Edgar he needed to give people the chance to apologize so, please, just let me get this out. It's been weighing me down for two days now."

"OK," Sig closed his eyes and shook his head, thinking this was totally unnecessary. _Maybe it is necessary to Norman. Think of that_.

Norman took a cleansing breath. "Listen," he whispered, although Edgar was clearly far enough away to miss the conversation even if he used his normal volume, "I don't know what the hell got into me on Wednesday but I should have never taken it out on you. I'm really sorry I said what I said to you. It completely crossed the line."

"Oh, Norm, we've said shit to each other before," the oldest brother said dismissively.

"Yeah, but not like that," Norman clarified.

"So you lost your temper and said something you regret. It happens to everybody, myself included. Case in point, the Tooth Fairy incident. Or the day after you came home drunk. Nobody's perfect, bro. But we forgive and forget because that's what family does," Sig explained softly, "So stop worrying about it. Three little words aren't going to change how I feel about you."

Listening carefully, Norman felt a sense of relief wash over him with Sig's closing sentence. The nagging fear that he ruined his relationship with his brother now seemed overblown and ridiculous. But, he would have liked it very much if Sig would have expanded on exactly HOW he felt about him. _I know you love me…and I know I don't make it easy to say all the time…but it doesn't mean I don't like to hear it._

"And just for the record," Sig added, "I sent you to your room to keep you from doing something stupid, not to punish you."

"I was hoping…" Norman started to say, and then stopped himself. _I was hoping you'd come and talk to me that night…like you do with Edgar when he's gotten in trouble. I don't know how you do it, but you always seem to make the both of us feel better about whatever happened to get us in trouble in the first place. I don't know how you know the right words to say but you do. You sort of explained once that you say and do what you always hoped Dad would one day do with you._

"What?" Sig asked when it looked like he wasn't going to hear the rest without prompting, "You were hoping what?"

Norman slumped his shoulders and stared off into the distance. A large hawk was swooping circles around the treetops. "Nothing," Norman's pensive gaze changed as he put on his protective 'mask.'

Sig frowned, dreading the question but asking all the same, "Is this about the Mustang?"

Norman turned quickly to face his brother. "No," he said emphatically, "I have no hopes or expectations when it comes to that car. You were right to call me a brat because I was acting like one. I'm perfectly OK with whatever you decide to do with it. I'll support you 100%."

"Your support is very much appreciated," Sig stated flatly, "Once I figure out what the hell I'm going to do with it." When Norman gave his brother a questioning look, Sig shrugged it off, "I haven't had much time to think about it…considering I haven't been able to think clearly during the last day and a half."

"I picked up on the fact that you didn't tell the kid about the car," Norman tipped his chin in the direction of the lake and Edgar, "Are you?"

"I don't know," Sig sounded as lost and confused as he felt, "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because," Sig bowed his blond head, "Lots of reasons, I guess."

Norman leaned over, his hands balancing him at his sides, to catch Sig's eye, "Like…"

"Like…" Sig started, "Well…lots of reasons…the most important one being I don't want him to think less of me for taking the 'money' I praised him for NOT taking." The tall young man had guilt written all over his face, a look Norman identified with but possessed little comprehension in regards to this situation. Sig sighed, "It makes me look like the biggest hypocrite in the world, doesn't it?"

"Wow," Norman sat back, leaning on his hands, "Is that how you really see it?"

"How else can I see it?" Sig threw up his hands in mild frustration, not directed at his brother but at the dilemma in general, "Sure, you and Phil and anybody else I share this story with are going to tell me I'd be fucking crazy to turn down that much money. And the good Lord knows we need it. But think about where it came from…and why." He took a breath, remembering to keep his voice low, "You're not the one who has to live with this decision. Of course I want to use the car to right the wrongs done to our brother. But it still feels wrong accepting money from a criminal. And I know for a fact, two wrongs don't equal a right."

Norman reflected on his brother's words, for the first time, putting himself in Sig's shoes. He had to truly ask himself what he would do in the same situation. Coming up with an answer wasn't as easy as it initially seemed. Logic told him to sell the car and laugh all the way to the bank. But he knew just as well as Sig how the money had been acquired in the first place and there was a certain level of guilt there for just thinking about enjoying all that cash. "Sig," Norman said slowly, carefully, "It's not like you'd be taking the money and buying fur coats, Gold Nugget watches and designer jeans with it."

Sig shrugged sheepishly. "I know," the oldest brother stretched his leg down to the water, dipping his toe into the coldness of the lake and letting it up with a small splash.

"You'd use the money to pay off the emergency room bill from Edgar's beating and for him to see a therapist for as long as he needs it. _MY hospital bills I'm paying off by myself…somehow._ And the money can go to Daisy's upkeep…" Norman explained hastily, "You have to admit the kid has perked up a lot since that dog came into our lives. She's been the best thing that has happened to Edgar all summer. And think about Dad…"

Sig's head shot up, eyeballing his little brother skeptically.

"Well," Norman blanched a little under the scrutiny, "Come on, you know Dad's getting up there. And his health ain't so great. The doctors told him he needs to watch his weight and his diet, which of course the stubborn SOB has NOT done, or he'll be a diabetic before the age of 55. Why should the man be burdened with medical or therapist bills along with everything else he has to deal with? You know," the middle brother used the timing perfectly to reveal a little secret he'd been carrying around, "the last time Dad called, he mentioned that the boat is in bad shape."

"Like what kind of bad shape?" Sig asked, his heart sinking at the thought of the boat sitting in dry dock, sucking away what was left of the family's life savings.

"He didn't go into specifics but she's 7 years old now," Norman reminded his brother needlessly, "Things are going to start breaking down unless they get an overhaul, like new hydraulic fittings, pots, and…"

"I get it, I get it," Sig grumbled, "I work in a shipyard, dude. I know what boats need."

"So you know how much all that shit costs," Norman watched Edgar and Daisy start swimming to the sandy beach, "Not to mention the money the boat owner loses when the boat ain't out fishing."

This enlightening and unwelcomed information added a new wrinkle to Sig's dilemma. Suddenly, a few hospital bills, college tuition and other expenses went from a small family burden to utter financial disaster. If the boat needed extensive repairs, all the money made from this Salmon season had to go to that endeavor, not to other bills his father wasn't counting on.

Living in a fishing community, too often Sig had seen families lose everything they had, their homes, their retirements, their life savings, dumping good money after bad into boats that would never fish again because they were in unfishable conditions. Men had lost millions selling boats at half their original worth because they couldn't afford the upkeep and constant breakdowns. Of course, the loan companies didn't care, they still wanted their money back…ALL their money.

_Of course, the hospital isn't going to care either. They'll want to get paid, too. As will the oral surgeon and whatever colleges my brothers plan on attending. _

The thought of his father spending his days laboring at the docks until he dropped dead just to pay off the bills from a boat he no longer could operate was incredibly powerful. As he watched both Edgar and Daisy climb out of the water and shake off simultaneously, Sig filed the image of his father's financial downfall along with the haunting images of Edgar's beating.

Those two images were in direct contrast with the plaguing image of a spry, wiry gangster wearing a black Fedora with a red feather, smiling a toothy grin like he was cutting a hole in Sig's tightly-weaved moral fibers.

"It's your choice, Sig," Norman rushed out as Edgar approached, "But you're wrong about being the only one that has to live with it."

The middle brother stood up, stretching his short frame. Remembering Edgar's words in the oral surgeon's office about being left behind 'all the time,' he finished quickly with, "And I think you should tell the kid about the car." _I love getting the last word in on a conversation, especially when I know I'm right._

Not giving Sig a chance to respond, Norman walked away, waving his hand to Edgar, "Hey, come on, I think I know place where you and Daisy can dry off."

Sig looked back, regarding not for the first time that Edgar was getting taller with each passing day. His lanky frame was starting to slowly fill out, his shoulders getting wider and his hips growing narrower. And the baby face was starting to thin out and get more than one zit at a time.

Shirtless, Edgar accepted a towel from his older brother and slung it over his shoulders. Still visible were the two pink, circular burn marks on his right shoulder. They didn't seem to bother the kid but they bothered his brothers immensely.

Sig sighed as he watched his brothers walk slowly into the woods, laughing to each other about some secret only the two of them shared_. Probably about me, no doubt. _Norman's words gave Sig a lot more to think about then he planned on_. Edgar deserves to hear about the car. Hiding it from him only makes me feel guiltier about it. And I can't keep treating him like a child. He's not going to be a kid much longer. Before I know it, he'll be the one graduating from high school…and who's going to foot the bills for college and books and dorm rooms…In a few years, I'll have to come up with a different nickname for him…fuck that, he'll always be 'kid' to me._

"SIG?" Edgar called from the edge of the woods, "You coming?"

Sig gave the lake one final look for the night and then stood up, following in the direction of two sets of human footprints…and four paws.

* * *

Norman started a fire in the clearing and the woods took on a new light as sunlight fell and the stars rose. Daisy dried off by the warmth of the fire and scored herself a small piece of roasted hot dog. The boys couldn't resist giving her a toasted marshmallow and then felt guilty about laughing at her as she struggled to lick it off the roof of her mouth.

Finally, Edgar took Daisy into the house, gave her a drink of water to wash down the marshmallow and tucked her safely into her folding crate.

When the crate was initially introduced a few days ago, the outgoing dog was not a fan of the idea. But the boys had made it comfortable for her with lots of pillows and blankets and the covering left her feeling like she was in her private cave and perfectly safe. The independent mutt had come to terms with the notion since then and fell asleep before Edgar left the cabin.

When the youngest Hansen returned to the campfire, he was carrying his guitar and observed that Sig was attempting to eat a plain hot dog. The tall blond taking mini bites and using his front teeth before swallowing with mild effort. "I brought some Jell-O," Edgar mentioned as he sat down on the fallen log across from his brothers and started strumming.

"What DIDN'T you bring?" Norman asked with a laugh. Inconspicuously, Norman and Sig looked at each other, eyes wide and both thinking; _this is the first time the kid has played since his hands were beaten raw._

"You made me terrific Jell-O yesterday, little brother," Sig nodded, expanding on his treat to Norman, "And he even let me drink it before it set."

"Mom used to let us drink the Jell-O like that when we had sore throats," Edgar reminded his brothers.

"Well it worked great on sore gums, along with the soup you made for me," Sig ventured his tongue back far enough in his mouth to feel the swollen areas, still held together by dissolving stitches. He winced hard, regretting that curiosity got the better of him.

"Sounds like someone did a fine job of taking care of you," Norman flashed his younger brother a quick wink. _Told you so, kid._

"You guys did enough of taking care of me over the last few weeks," Edgar spoke honestly, playing a few cords of The Beatles With A Little Help From My Friends, "I was just returning the favor." He smiled as he strummed what he thought was an appropriate song for the conversation.

"Well, if you ask me, I think the three of us have done a wonderful job taking care of each other but…" Norman leaned over and added another log to the fire, "…I'd be happy if no one else, including yours truly, needs anymore taking care of this summer. No more late night trips to the hospital, no more surgeries, no more gauze and ointment and all that stuff would be just fine with me."

"God," Sig exclaimed, "Norman, are you seriously tempting fate with that statement? Somebody better knock on wood." And the oldest brother tapped his hand along the old oak tree resting under his buttocks.

His brothers joined him in the superstitious act, scaring off the woodland fairies, water sprites and other mystical creatures lurking in the area.

* * *

Sig would later regret not having a supernatural ward to scare off other types of creatures intent on entering his private world. The next morning, Sig woke up on the sofa to a soft tapping on his shoulder and the sounds of deep male laughter. The laughter didn't sound like his brothers and at first he thought he was dreaming.

Peeking one eye open, he found himself staring into the faces of the people least likely to retain the peacefulness of the quiet surroundings; future fishermen of the Bering Sea.

"Good Morning, Sunshine," Jonathan Hillstrand said in a sugary sweet voice. The dark-haired 19 year old looked like he just come off the cover of American Iron, the popular Harley Davidson magazine. He was dressed in his leather chaps and had already tossed off his pathetic excuse for a helmet onto the coffee table. "Happy 4th of July!"

Andy, his younger and cleaner looking 18 year old brother, offered a cup of coffee to the groggy blond on the sofa, "Your brother let us in…well, we sort of just came in."

Phil, in a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off simply to accentuate his tattoos, smiled wickedly, "Your brothers are outside. Don't worry, we didn't abduct them."

"Along with a bunch of other people…"Jonathan laughed his trademark Snidely Whiplash snicker, stroking his long mustache.

"What…?" Sig rubbed his hands over his eyes and down the length of his face, feeling the blond stubbles growing thick from his skin, "What…people? And why are you guys here."

"Independence Day, you albino Norwegian fucker," Andy continued to hold out the cup patiently, "Harris here said you were having a party so…"

"Here we are," Jonathan finished his brother's statement with a wide, shit-eatin' grin.

"Harris was WRONG!" Sig wishing he could wipe the smile off Jon's face, "This was just supposed to be a picnic with my brothers and a few of their friends, not a keg party like last summer."

"Well, they're more than a few people here," Phil walked over and looked out the side window over the breakfast table, trying to justify his misunderstanding, "There's that guy Nick from the night we went to the Shack…"

"Where I got eleven stitches put in my arm," Andy stated proudly, pulling up his shirt sleeve with his free hand and revealing a long, thin scar just below his shoulder.

Jonathan looked down at the sofa, effectively hiding his grimace at the wound on his brother's person. On anyone else, it would be a cool story to tell. On HIS little brother, the wound was a different matter that brought out a lot of protective feelings and the guilt that he wasn't able to save his brother from the injury.

"…And what looks like Nick's little brother, maybe…looks like him, just smaller. That kid looks completely miserable…and a super-hot redhead on Nick's arm. And then there's a cute blondie with curly hair who already told me off, in no uncertain terms, for whistling at her as she got out of the little Honda. Man, she's feisty."

"That would be my brother's girlfriend and he can be pretty feisty, too, when it comes to guys hitting on her so I suggest you lay off, Phil," Sig said forcefully, sitting up and finally taking the offered cup of coffee in one hand and running the other through his disheveled hair.

Phil nodded his understanding. He was a ladies man but not where other friend's girlfriends were concerned, "Well, she's got a little blond girl with her, about Edgar's age. And then there are some people we brought…"

"Jesus Christ, Phil!" Sig yelled, wincing as the noise hurt his jaw.

"Just some girls we invited," Andy explained casually, trying to defuse the situation. Being the third of five boys all born within ten years of each other left Andy Hillstrand the permanent peacemaker in any and all types of situations…unless he was stoned or drunk…or someone touched his guitar.

"What's a party without some female company?" Jonathan shrugged like the thought made absolute sense to him.

"And then…" Phil squinted his eyes to get a better look.

Sig held his breath. _How many more fucking people could possibly be here? This is turning into a fucking nightmare_.

"A short blond…long, long hair. Looks a little out of place out there…like she doesn't know anyone. Shit, though, with those hips, I could introduce myself real quick," Phil slicked his long hair back and licked his lips, "The dog seems to recognize her, though. But maybe the mutt is more interested in the casserole dish in her hands."

Sig froze. The description matched someone he'd fantasized about on many a lonely night…although every time he'd seen her in person, she was wearing a police uniform. _Short…long blond hair…killer hips…Daisy knows her…IT CAN'T BE!_

Placing his cup on the end table, the oldest brother sat up and pushed Jon and Andy out of his way. He made his way over to the window, shoving Phil to the side to get a good look.

Out in the yard, among a throng of people and cars, including his own brothers, their friends and girlfriends and some questionable looking ladies he'd have to use the word loosely to describe, was the blond Phil spoke so eloquently about. And she was not in her uniform. Instead, she was wearing the cutest lime-green summer dress that accentuated all her feminine qualities the way no police uniform could.

Walking around among the chaos, large casserole dish in one hand, Patricia found her way over to Norman. Sig watched with narrowing eyes as the two of them shook hands and smiled knowingly at each other.

_How the fuck? The fucking business card with her name and extension on it…I left it in my jeans pocket…and Norman did the wash the next day. What was he saying about always forgetting shit in my pockets? Holy hell, my little brother just set me up. _

"**NORMAN!**" bellowed from the cabin and throughout the peaceful surroundings, scaring the birds out of the trees. So it was Sig, and not his rowdy friends, that officially was the first one to disturb the peace.

~tbc


	60. Independence Day: Fireworks

**A/N: Finally, Independence Day! And freedom may be ringing for some before we're done. Hope you enjoy part 1 of this chapter. **

**WARNINGS: Very Strong Language, Adult Situations, Sexual Scenes, Locker Room Humor (one playful? swat), Teenage Escapades, Kissing and Some Fish Die**

* * *

Seeing the lady cop outside the cabin window made Sig forget all about the pain in his mouth.

"Holy shit!" he muttered to himself as he turned around and faced his three friends. Sig wanted to ask someone for a cigarette but found the willpower to refrain.

"What's the problem, Sig?" Phil asked, "You know that chick?"

"You could say that."

"She's hot," Phil added, "Aren't you happy she's here? I know I am!"

"NO," Sig turned his head and eyeballed Phil a few inches from his face, "I'm NOT happy…not anymore." He literally growled at the smug smile on Phil's face, "And don't look so happy yourself. She's a fucking COP!"

Jonathan swallowed hard, "A cop?"

"YES, a cop," Sig started pacing, wringing his hands together in front of him, "Let me guess…you mother fuckers brought alcohol with you?"

The nineteen-year-old and two eighteen-year-olds had the good sense to hang their heads bashfully, unable to look Sig in the eye.

"That's great," Sig deadpanned, his voice sounding far calmer than he actually felt, "That's just great. WE are all underage and YOU brought alcohol."

"Well," Andy shrugged slightly, "How were we suppose to know there'd be a cop here?"

"Doesn't matter," Sig waved his hand dismissively, wishing he had something to punch instead of thin air, "Where's the booze?"

"In the back of my pick-up truck," Andy answered, "In a cooler."

"The pot is in my saddle bags," Jon offered in a whisper.

"Oh My God, it just keeps getting better. This is AWESOME," Sig muttered sarcastically, "There's a cop here and there's booze and drugs practically out in the open 10 feet from where she's standing."

"You want us to hide it?" Jonathan asked quickly.

"Jesus, NO, Jon," Sig flashed him a scathing look, "That would make it kinda obvious, don't you think."

"Do you want us to leave?" Andy asked quietly.

Sig sighed, "No, that would be just as obvious and…you guys came all this way." _These are my friends. They had my back when Edgar got hurt. They didn't even question me when I asked for help. And throwing them out of here would be a shitty way of saying 'thank you' for all they did for me._

Trying to get his bearings, the oldest brother slipped into Captain Mode. He pointed to Andy, "Leave the cooler where it's at. Tell your 'girlfriends' not to touch it but tell them quietly. Take them down to the lake and explain the situation." Then he gestured to Phil, "Go get my brother Norman and bring him in here." To Jon, he instructed, "You're good with women. Go charm the lady cop and keep her company…BUT keep the stories CLEAN, Jon. You know what I mean!"

"Got it," Phil sighed, starting to feel awful about the precarious situation he just put one of his good friends in, "Sig, I'm sorry, buddy. I had no idea this was just a 'quiet' thing with close friends…you know?"

A bit of Sig's anger defused with the apology, "It's alright, Phil." He looked over at the Hillstrands and put a hand on Phil's shoulder, "You guys ARE my close friends. It's just that…" the blond lowered his gaze to the carpeted floor, "…since we lost our mom, I've had to grow up… A LOT…and my partying days are kind of over. I can't afford to make poor decisions now that I have my younger brothers to think about this summer."

"We'll be good," Jon promised. With three younger brothers, the dark-haired guy identified closely with what Sig was saying. "We'll hang out today, swim and play games…then, when it gets dark, we'll head out. I think the ladies we brought with us are expecting a different kind of party tonight and we can give that to them AT HOME." The brown-eyed Hillstrand gave his brother and friends a meaningful wink.

Sig bowed his head slightly, grateful his friends understood the situation without teasing him for being a prude, "Alright." Turning back to Phil, his eyes flashed with restrained anger, "Please tell Norman I'd like to see him…IMMEDIATELY."

* * *

Norman, already dressed in his swim trunks and bare-chested, walked into the cabin, letting the screen door slam behind him. "Sig?"

"BEDROOM!"

The middle brother noted that the forceful voice had an edgy tone to it. Still, Norman made the decision to go behind his brother's back and invite Patricia and he was going to stick by it. _Of course, Sig'll be mad but he'll get over it…he may even thank me later._

Screwing his courage up, he dropped off Patricia's casserole dish in the kitchen and headed to the back of the cabin. "You OK, Bro?"

"OK?" Sig asked as he riffled through the dresser drawers, unable to look at his brother for the moment without strangling him, "OK?"

"Yeahhh," Norman furrowed his eyebrows and drew out the word slowly, "O…K…? Do you need something?"

Sig whipped out a pair of white, dark green and navy blue plaid shorts and a solid navy blue V-neck collared t-shirt from the dresser. He turned on his younger brother, an accusatory look on his face. "**I NEED you to stay the hell out of my love life**," he hissed, then brushed passed Norman on his way to the bathroom.

Norman remained frozen in place for a second and then followed his behind his brother. "You don't **HAVE** a love life," he fired back, "That's why I called Patricia and invited her here."

"Oh, you two on a first name basis, now?" Sig's voice dripped with venom. He tossed his clean clothes on the floor and starred at himself in the bleary bathroom mirror above the sink. _I look like absolute shit_. "God, Norman, what the hell were you thinking?" he asked as he opened the mirrored cabinet and went in search of some needed items.

The brawny middle brother leaned casually against the door frame, arms folded over his chest and unfazed by his oldest brother's flaring temper. "I was thinking," he said clearly, "that YOU need to have some fun. Look, Sig…"

"DON"T YOU **LOOK SIG** ME!" the Viking slammed his hand down on the porcelain sink, closing his eyes and shaking with fury. He took a long deep breath and counted backwards…starting at 30! He got to 24 when he opened his eyes and took a step back from the sink, "Better yet, LOOK at me! I haven't shaved or had a shower in THREE DAYS…AND IT'S SUMMER! I smell worse than the deckhands on the Northwestern."

Norman VERY wisely hid a sly smile. _If you're this worried about your appearance all of a sudden, then I know I made the right decision. You really like this woman…you just need a push in the right direction_, "I don't know. I've smelled those guys before and they're pretty rank when they get off that boat."

"I AM going to punch you," Sig hissed through clenched teeth, "How can you make jokes when we have a police officer and God knows how much beer, liquor and pot all on our property at the same time?"

Norman put his hands on his hips, the feminine motion looking rather silly on such a muscular, masculine guy, "Well how the hell was I supposed to know you invited Phil and those guys? You didn't say anything about it!"

"BECAUSE I DIDN'T INVITE THEM," Sig yelled under his breath, his eyes going wide, "Phil took it upon himself to come and bring Jon, Andy and half of the 'ladies' from Sunset Boulevard with him."

"Oh," Norman whispered self-consciously, sorry for accusing his brother of keeping secrets from him, especially since he was the one keeping secret guest invitations from Sig.

"This is a fine mess we're in," Sig lamented, feeling some of the hostility towards Norman fading. He was still annoyed with his brother but his good sense told him Norman could not have foreseen THIS mess happening.

Norman waved a casual hand in the air, "We've gotten out of worse."

"I'm glad you're so confident," Sig straightened his shoulders and continued looking through the medicine cabinet. Coming across his razor, shaving cream, deodorant and favorite cologne, he silently thanked his youngest brother for his impeccable foresight.

Sig started filling up the sink, somewhat surprised that Norman was still hanging around the bathroom door. "What?" he finally asked when it seemed like the tough guy wasn't leaving.

"Aren't you at least A LITTLE curious?"

"About what?" Sig asked as he leaned over and wet his face. He tried to ignore the shaking of his hands and blamed on Nicotine withdraw.

"About Patricia," Norman shuffled his feet, his open sandals revealing his wiggling toes, "She seemed very excited when I called."

"Maybe she likes you," Sig quipped straight-faced as he smoothed the shaving cream on his face. The thought of flexing his sore jaw and chin to get to hard-to-reach areas was a little daunting but pride overrode pain today and he was willing to suck it up to look halfway decent.

Norman shook his head with a short laugh, "No, dude. I think she likes YOU. She almost jumped at the invitation."

"Humph," Sig muttered indifferently. But in his heart, he felt a small flutter of something…_No! I can't do this!_ "Norm, I'm leaving in a month. I have no interest in getting involved in a serious relationship."

"Who said anything about it being serious?" Norman explained, lowering his voice as he continued, "And so what if it turns out that way. You'll be gone for a few months, not the rest of your life. You'll be coming back…right?"

"I don't know," Sig said kiddingly, "After this summer, I may never want to come home again."

"Ha…Ha," Norman added with sarcasm, "But, honestly, you can't live your life like it's on hold in between every fishing season. That's no way to live, bro."

"Get out," Sig pointed with his free hand, using the other to scrap the stubble off his handsome face. Similar to yesterday, his younger brother's words felt like someone was whacking him upside the head with a cold slap of reality.

"Enjoy your shower," Norman said, coming off full of himself. For his self-assurance, he got a wet towel filled with shaving suds whipped across the back of his bare thigh as he left.

* * *

Edgar was overwhelmed with the amount of people hanging around in the yard. He had no idea his brothers had invited so many people but he was excited and secretly hoped that Sig and Norman were leaning more towards a party atmosphere as opposed to a simple holiday picnic.

He was fascinated with the ladies Sig's friends brought with them. He'd never seen women wearing string bikinis before. The three women were wearing less clothing than people he'd seen in National Geographic magazines but more make-up than the clowns at the circus. _Maybe Sig will be scared by them_.

Amanda had already given him a big hug and fussed over him like a pseudo big sister. Now, she was scolding him quietly for his latest mischief. "Edgar Hansen, I cannot believe you went back to that place! When Norman told me last night over the phone what almost happened to you…" Dramatically, she put her hand over her heart and whimpered.

Edgar couldn't tell if she was faking it or being sincere. "Sorry, 'Manda."

"Well," she sighed, pulling him into another big hug, "Just don't do something so stupid again, hear me?"

"I won't" the youngest brother whispered in her ear, realizing for the first time he hadn't be hugged in a motherly fashion by a female in a long time. He nuzzled a little into her hair, soaking up the affection.

"Excuse me, little brother, but are you hitting on my girlfriend?" Norman asked as he came around the corner of the house. He pretended to play the role of the jealous boyfriend and Edgar almost tripped over his own words to get out the explanation.

"Norman…"

"I'm kidding, bro," the middle brother smiled, "But Amanda and I have a date in the lake so I'll be taking her back now."

"Do we, now?" the spunky, petite asked.

"We sure do," Norman answered. And with a quick motion, he swept his girlfriend up in his arms and started carrying her to the lake.

Amanda started screaming, "Put me down. I need to get my clothes off."

"I can help you with that," Norman changed the course of his direction, taking a hard right and carrying his girlfriend off into the woods. In order to quell the screaming and giggling, he started kissing her.

"My sister has really missed your brother," Sally whispered as she silently appeared next to Edgar. She watched the young couple disappearing into the woods. "She wrote his name in little hearts in her diary for the past two weeks."

When Edgar gave her a sideways look, Sally smiled a little mischievously, "She doesn't know I know where she keeps it."

Figuring baby siblings stick together, Edgar revealed quietly, "Norman took all his girly posters down off his bedroom walls last week. He said he was tired of looking at them but Sig told me it was because Amanda doesn't like them."

"I guess love makes you do fatuous things," Sally surmised.

Edgar didn't know what fatuous meant so he simply nodded, reminded again that Sally was the smartest girl in his class. _I have no chance with this girl. Why would she be interested in a kid that takes remedial reading classes when she's on the Honors track?_ Steering the conversation away from their siblings, Edgar mentioned, "Matt Mavar's over there. You know him?"

"Of course I know him," Sally giggled as she focused her amber eyes, "We had Pre-Alg together. Let's go over and say hi."

The young teenagers made their way over to Matt. The dark-haired kid was leaning against his brother's car, daggers coming from his eyes as he watched Nick introducing his girlfriend to some of Sig's friends. He kicked a few rocks lying in the dirt, pleased in a passive-aggressive way when some of the dirt he kicked up hit the side of his brother's car.

"Hey, Matt," Edgar said in a cheerful voice, "Glad you could make it."

"Matt, how's your summer going?" Sally asked.

"Shitty," Matt grumbled under his breath.

Edgar took a step closer to his friend. "What's eatin' you?" he asked with sincerity.

Matt glared at his best friend for a few seconds, and then moved his gaze back over to his brother. "Nuffin'," he blurted out.

"OK," Edgar sensed there was something wrong but perhaps Matt didn't want to talk about it with Sally around. "You want to go swimming? The lake's real warm this time of year."

Matt shrugged ever so slightly, determined to make himself have a miserable time just to spite his brother.

Sally interpreted the feeble gesture to mean a 'yes.' "I'll go get changed," she offered, running over to grab her bag out of the back of Amanda's car, "Can I use the house?"

"Sure," Edgar yelled, "We'll wait right here." Then he turned to his friend. "Alright, Matt, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Matt's hairless jaw flexed several times but he brooded in lonesome silence. When Edgar reached out a hand to place it on Matt's shoulder, the dark-haired kid pulled away, "Let me alone, Ed."

"Why? What's wrong? Did you not want to come?" Edgar pleaded for some kind of explanation. _Are you mad at me for some reason?_

"I wanted to come…" Matt started to say, the anger and frustration building up inside him and his bottom lip began quivering. Tears held back during a two hour car ride launched themselves to collect in the corner of Matt's root-beer colored eyes, betraying his tough façade. The young teen hiccupped, managing to hiss between his teeth "…I just…didn't want…HER…to come. It was supposed to be just…the two of us."

_The two of us…You and Nick, I guess. And he must have decided to bring his girlfriend at the last minute_. "Oh," Edgar replied pathetically, unsure of what else he could say other than, "We can still have fun…you, me and Sally."

"It's not the same," Matt blurted out, pushing past his friend and running off to the direction of lake before he broke down and cried in front of his friend.

"MATT!" Edgar called after him, watching him run off and then glancing over at Nick to see if he noticed his little brother's hasty departure. Nick had his back to the situation and was laughing at something Jonathan said as the mustached guy entertained Patricia and the others gathered around him. _So much for getting help in that department. So what do I do now? Should I follow Matt or wait for Sally like I promised?_

* * *

As Edgar stood there and considered his options, Sig stepped out of the bathroom and almost collided with a young blond girl about to open the bathroom door on him. The two of them jumped back, equally startled.

"Sorry, Mr. Hansen," Sally apologized, slipping her bag off her shoulder "Edgar said I could come in here to get changed."

Sig was never so grateful that he got dressed in the bathroom before exiting. "No problem, hon," he said reassuringly, ignoring the weird feeling about his brother's girlfriend's sister calling him 'Mr. Hansen.' _Do I seem old to her?_ "It's all yours. Is my brother still outside?"

"Yes, sir," she answered as she shimmed by him, careful not to touch the tall, imposing man. "Edgar said he'd wait for me."

"Then I'm sure he is," Sig replied as he went to shut the door to give the girl some privacy.

He turned a little green around the gills when she added through the closed door, "But Norman and Amanda went off into the woods about ten minutes ago."

_Norman_, Sig spoke silently to his brother and wished he could communicate with him telepathically like the Wonder Twins, _I swear to God if you break your promise of celibacy today, I AM going to kill you!_

* * *

"Norman," Amanda whispered into her boyfriend's ear. It wasn't so much the name but how she said it; desperate, pleading and dripping with desire. In case he missed the meaning, she trailed her hand down the length of his back and squeezed his taut buttocks through his swim trunks.

Norman whimpered, laying on top of his girlfriend in the soft thicket of the clearing and licking her bare breast with his tongue while he fondled the other. "I…" he fumbled as his manhood pressed into her thigh, "I…didn't bring…protection."

"I have some in my car," Amanda pushed on his shoulder as encouragement to go and retrieve the needed item.

Norman grabbed her hand and pressed it over her head. He continued his sweet assault on her perfectly round breasts, teasing her pink nipple with the tip of his moist tongue. "I don't feel like getting up," he murmured against her skin with his warm breath. _OH GOD, I couldn't get more 'UP' if I tried. But how do I explain to my girlfriend and lover that I promised my big brother I'd behave?_

"Norman," she said, more desperate this time, lifting her hips and grinding against him in the most seductive fashion, "It's been sooo long."

"I…I can't" _I can, I can, I can_ taunted other areas of his person.

Amanda used her free hand to slither its way down between them and stroke the taunting appendage. "Of course you can, baby. You're all healed now." She slipped her hand skillfully down the front of his Hawaiian flowered swim trunks to run a finger over the scar on his lower right abdomen. Since she was down there anyway…

"Oh, Sweet Jesus," Norman jumped as his girlfriend's hand reached the spot she was looking for, "I...I can't…Damn, that feels so good."

"And that's just my hand…" she whispered as she licked the rim of his ear.

Normally a patient guy when it 'came' to these things, Norman took the only recourse he had available without admitting to his girlfriend about his promise and without breaking the promise itself.

A few seconds of stroking later, Amanda gasped. _This sort of thing never happened before._

Norman allowed himself the enjoyment of the orgasm, and then pulled back sheepishly, "Sorry, baby, I haven't been right since the surgery. I hope they didn't nicked something while they were down there. Maybe we can try again sometime this week when we're in a more comfortable situation." Red-faced, he decided that the mild embarrassment was worth saving face with his brother and his girlfriend.

Amanda was instantly comforting, soothing her man and stroking his hair with her free hand. She promised they would try again as soon as possible and not to worry about a thing. She would make sure everything was in working order when they got home.

As Norman lavished in the attention he was getting, he felt a momentary pang of guilt. But the thought of getting out of this situation without revealing or breaking any secrets as well as the almost guaranteed sex he was going to get later in the week erased the guilt fairly quick.

* * *

Sig stood in the doorway of the cabin. He ran a hand through his hair, and then checked his face for any missed stubble. Adjusting his shirt to lay perfectly flat against his wide chest, he sighed deeply. _STOP IT – you're stalling! Go out there and be a man. Forget about the pain in your jaw and go have fun with the pretty cop as the illegal drugs sit a few feet from where she's sitting._

Sauntering through the open screen door, Sig found Daisy and Edgar sitting on the porch steps.

"Hey, little brother," he said happily.

"Good Morning," Edgar said, craning his neck to look back and up, "Are you feeling better?"

"A little," Sig admitted honestly, "I took some aspirins, thanks to you for thinking of bringing them, and they seem to be helping without making me sick like that other stuff."

"Good to hear," Edgar looked back down and stroked Daisy's soft fur. He looked out into the yard, "I didn't know you guys were inviting all these people."

"Neither did I," Sig answered, finding a narrow path down the steps and walked out into the grass.

"Huh?" the kid asked, squinting his eyes against the sun as its light haloed his blond older brother.

"It's a long story," Sig put a hand on the bottom of the railing and tried to laugh it off, "But at least we brought a lot of food."

"Are you gonna catch some fish today?"

"That's the plan," Sig answered, "Aren't you going to come with me?"

"Naw," Edgar lowered his voice, shifting his eyes in the direction of the cabin, "I don't want to get seasick in front of…other people."

"Oh," Sig nodded his understanding, following Edgar's gaze to the cabin door and the pretty blond inside. "Well, I'll have to take Norman out with me. That should keep him out of trouble," he said carefully, scanning the woods for any signs of his lovesick brother.

"Maybe Officer Markley would like to go," Edgar offered, "Why is she here, anyway?"

"Norman's idea."

"Oh," Edgar cocked his head to the side, ironically just like Daisy was doing at the moment, same side and all, and studied his oldest brother carefully. "Is that why you're all dressed up? You shaved, too."

"You don't miss a thing, do you?" Sig asked with a smile, "And I wouldn't call shorts and a t-shirt all dressed up." Edgar's comment unknowingly made Sig feel more self-conscious. He tipped his chin at Edgar's attire, "What, did you and Norman sleep in your swim trunks?"

Edgar grinned, "No, we just got up really early. Norman snored most of the night so it's not like I really slept anyway. At least you got the sofa by yourself."

Sig softened his blue eyes, the color enhanced by his choice of clothing, "Kid, you could have come and slept with me in the living room."

"Norman said I wasn't allowed to disturb you because you were sick and recovering from your teeth getting ripped out."

Sig winced. _The kid has a way of phrasing things that makes the visual very tangible._ Initially, he wanted to argue that Norman was wrong but he smartly assessed that he'd be undermining Norman's authority in saying so. And, last night the youngest brother was obedient to that authority, despite the obstacles. "We're going to have to get Norman looked at by the doctor. I don't think snoring all the time is normal. And he needs a check-up after his surgery so it looks like we're all getting physicals sometime in the near future."

"You, too?"

"Yeah, they'll require one before I test for my provisional Mate's License." Sig explained, and then wanted to kick himself of bringing up his impending departure. Any talk of his leaving usually sent Edgar into a serious bout of the doldrums and he didn't want to ruin the kid's fun day.

Surprisingly, Edgar smiled wide and seemed excited, "That's so cool."

Sig was suspect of the answer and the reaction. He warily answered, "Yeah, I guess it is."

Sally came out of the house, her little bag in her hand. She was dressed in a one piece, turquoise bathing suit and had tied her hair up into a bun. Edgar jumped up nervously as the screen door opened and Sig almost laughed out loud. Daisy jumped up with him, tail wagging so hard her backside shook from side to side. _Now we can go swimming!_

"Can you put some sunscreen on my back?" Sally asked as she carried the tube in her hand and offered it to Edgar while walking down the two steps.

Edgar took the tube and shot his older brother an apprehensive look after Sally turned around and presented her back to him.

Sig gave his little brother an encouraging wink and a wry smile, "You guys have fun in the lake. Edgar, don't go out too far, OK? Where's Matt?"

"He went down to the lake already," Edgar tried to get the sunscreen out of the bottle and into his hand but he was shaking so badly, the simple task was difficult. Sig quickly snatched the tube and squirted the correct amount into Edgar's hand without Sally taking notice.

"Sig," Edgar tried talking through this daunting chore, albeit an exciting one. The youngest Hansen focused on Matt's situation and not the silky, warm feminine skin he was touching. "Matt's upset."

"Why?" Sally and Sig asked at the same time.

"He's not happy Nick brought his girlfriend."

"Does Nick know?" Sig asked quietly, looking over the young teenagers' heads at the small gathering of people by the picnic table. Nick was laughing, smiling and talking loudly over Jonathan and, at least outwardly, seemed unfazed by any issues with his little brother. Patricia was among the group and managed to catch Sig's eye as he looked over.

She had been keeping an eye on him since he exited the cabin, although inconspicuously, waiting for him to approach her. Now that she had direct eye contact, she decided she'd have to make the first move.

Waving, she smiled at the tall blond male and politely disengaged herself from the group. Letting her hips sway in her lime-green sundress as she strolled over, Sig had to remember to breathe as she walked towards him.

Edgar had to remember to breathe, too. Running his trembling hand over Sally's naked shoulder seemed to be sucking all the air out of his lungs. He managed to mutter an answer to Sig's question…if he could remember what it was. "Ummm," he stammered, "N…n…Nick…I don't t…think he knows."

"Knows what?" Sig barely heard Edgar's voice as Patricia approached.

"About Matt," Sally answered.

Poor Matt, it seemed, as Sally was the only one thinking about the miserable boy.

"You have a beautiful property here," Patricia said as she glanced around, "Thank you for inviting me." _Well, technically Norman invited me on your behalf. He explained that you were recovering from wisdom tooth extraction but he assured me you would have called yourself if you were able_.

"I'm glad you could come," Sig said honestly, realizing he actually meant it, "I'm sorry I didn't invite you directly."

"Norman explained the situation. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sig sighed, _now that I'm looking at you._

"Edgar, I don't think I've met your girlfriend before," Patricia mentioned innocently.

Sally giggled. Edgar turned several shades of red. Sig came to the young couple's rescue, "This is Sally, Edgar's friend. She's Amanda's sister."

"Oh," Patricia flushed with a little embarrassment herself for the misunderstanding, "I met Norman's girlfriend a little while ago. It's nice to meet you, Sally. My name is Patricia."

"Are you Mr. Hansen's girlfriend?" Sally unknowingly returned the favor.

Now Sig felt the heat of embarrassment on his clean-shaven face. Patricia laughed off the question, "Let's just say I'm a friend of the family."

An uncomfortable silence fell among the four individuals. Sig rocked on his feet a bit, feeling pressured to say something…anything. "I see," he gestured to the crowd by the table, "you met everyone else."

Patricia smiled, her green eyes glittering, "I sure did. Jonathan told me some tales of your high school days…"

Sig held his breath, wondering how long the statute of limitations was in the state of Washington for juvenile offensives.

"…it sounds like you were quite the star relief pitcher for your high school baseball team."

_Thank you, Jon…thank you for your unexpected discretion._ "I could hold my own," he said, bashfully downplaying his abilities.

Edgar, on the other hand, couldn't talk highly enough of Sig's pitching abilities, "He was the best pitcher ever. Sig could throw a fast ball so fast, you'd miss it if you blinked." Finished applying sunscreen to Sally's back, the young teen wiped the excess on his bare thighs. Excitedly, he explained, "We're gonna play baseball later and you'll see…you'll see how good he is, won't she, Sig?"

"Ah, it's been a while since I pitched, kid," Sig put his hand gently on Edgar's back and guided him towards the direction of the lake, "Why don't you two go swimming for a while? I see Norman and Amanda down there, along with Phil and some of his friends. Go ahead, I'm sure once Matt sees you having fun, he'll come out from wherever he's hiding and join in."

"Are you going to take Patricia out on the boat?" Edgar asked before he was effectively dismissed.

"Oh, I'd love that," Patricia exclaimed enthusiastically, taking a step closer to Sig and putting a hand on his arm.

"Then we'll see you down there," Sally called, grabbing Edgar by the arm and leading him to the lake, Daisy several paws ahead of them. She picked up her tennis ball off the front lawn and took off.

Sig was left with the beautiful blond policewoman and the drugs stashed a few feet away in Jonathan's Harley. _The boat sounds like a good idea_. "It's not much of a boat but…she'll get us out there and back," he said with a smile, gesturing his hand out, "Do you…like to fish?"

"Of course," the blond woman followed Sig's lead, "You can't grow up this close to the ocean and not."

As the lovely couple walked by the group of people, Sig and Nick greeted each other with firm handshakes. "Sig," Nick smiled, "Good to see you. Thanks for inviting us to this beautiful place. I...ah...checked with Norman that it was OK I brought an extra person. This…" he put his hand on the small of the redhead's back, "…is my girlfriend, Colleen." _Soon to be my fiancé, if she says 'yes' and I get the courage to pop the question…as well as make the final payment on that ring_.

"Nice to meet you, Colleen," Sig said, "Welcome." Colleen looked like she came direct from a shampoo commercial or a high-end photo shoot. The redhead was stunningly gorgeous and exactly how Sig pictured a girlfriend of Nick's to look like. The handsome, smart, soon-to-be lawyer with a 'bad boy turned angel' edge would attract any future supermodel or aspiring movie star.

It turned out there was more to Colleen than meets the eye. In the brief conversation Sig had with her, he found her sweet, charming and not the least bit full of herself. She also was a pre-med student with a sharp mind. It was a perfect match for his friend.

* * *

The entire group, minus Matt who was still mysteriously absent, gathered at the water's edge. The Hillstrands brought their own motor-powered dingy, now tied up to the other side of the dock, and Nick unhooked the canoe tied upside down on his car roof.

As the various groups began to leave shore in their sea-worthy vessels, Nick glanced around from the canoe and looked for his younger brother. Colleen, sitting in front of him, adjusting her paddle and waited for her boyfriend to shove off.

"Have you seen Matt lately?" he asked her.

"Not since we got here," she answered, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

"SIG?" Nick called over to Sig's boat. Sig and Patricia were readying their fishing gear, "Have you seen Matt?"

Sig's head shot up and he scanned the lake in the direction of his youngest brother. Edgar, Sally and Daisy were swimming by the rope swing located to the right of the dock and about a third of a way into the lake before it made its sharp turn. Norman was wrestling Amanda to the swing and the two of them seemed to be having fun without the sex. But there was no Matt in sight.

"NO," Sig hollered back. He thought about telling Nick what Edgar had shared with him but yelling that information across a wide open space and in front of the girl who caused the boy to become upset seemed terribly inappropriate. Not to mention, it really wasn't any of his business.

Nick sat still in the canoe, a long double paddle balanced in his hands. He looked around, debating on whether to just head out or get out of the canoe and look for his brother.

"Maybe we could paddle around the tree line, see if we spot him," Colleen offered when she sensed the internal conflict going on behind her.

"Alright," Nick muttered, already growing irritated with his younger brother. _The kid was freaking miserable the entire ride up here. He just sat in the back of the car, his arms folded across his chest and answered every question with one word answers. He also wouldn't look at in the rearview mirror every time I looked back to check on him. I don't know what got into that kid this morning. He seemed excited to go. Then, he started acting like a stuck-up brat._

As the canoe pulled away from the shoreline, back in the wood's edge near the cabin, a boy with root-beer colored eyes felt his heart sink at the thought of his brother leaving without him. He heard Nick ask for him. He saw the hesitation. But then his big brother left all the same.

The miserable young boy turned from heartbroken to furious, anger an easier emotion for him to deal with, and stomped off into the woods to be by himself.

* * *

"Here, let me help you with that," Sig offered, skillfully walking across the small boat and reaching out to assist Patricia with her tangled life jacket.

As he stood in front of her, he gently untangled the long straps. Jonathan, Andy, Phil and several of their ladies friends took off in their boat, the wake they left behind causing a disturbance in the water, which resulted in Sig's boat rocking up and down in the waves.

The waves caught him and Patricia off balance and the two of them ended up in each other's arms.

Sig closed his eyes and let instinct take over. He leaned down and kissed her soft lips.

She responded positively, opening her lips and letting him slip his tongue into her mouth.

When the kiss started to get heated, Sig pulled away. "Sorry," he whispered in a deep masculine voice.

"You don't have to be," she whispered back, "I left my firearm at home." Then she stood on her tippy toes and pulled his neck down for another sweet kiss.

It had been a long, long time since he kissed someone this passionately. So long that he'd forgotten the rush of the experience.

A low, cat-whistle coming from somewhere beyond the shoreline broke up the kiss and Sig looked over at his younger brother in the distance. Norman was smiling like a monkey, watching his oldest brother making out.

_I may kill him before the day is out_. "I…ah…think I got this untangled," Sig righted the lady and snapped the life jacket securely around her chest.

"It's like wearing Kevlar," Patricia quipped with a smile, a little of her lipstick smeared on her lips. Sig found her irresistibly sexy like that, particularly since he was the one to cause the smear.

"Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about any flying bullets out here," he stepped back to the stern of the boat, "Maybe some flying fish but that's about it." He secured his own life jacket and instructed, "Sit down, please, before I start the engine."

Patricia complied with the Captain's order and Sig tossed off the lines to the dock.

_Please let this baby start_. Thankfully, Edgar's repair was still holding because the boat started up with a roar.

With her long hair flying back, Sig took off and let the two of them enjoy a different kind of rush as the boat skimmed through the crystal blue waters of Elbow Lake. After a quick stop over where the kids were to check that Norman and Amanda would be 'babysitting' while they were gone, Sig and Patricia were off.

* * *

The adults found their fishing spots, staying clear of each other per the 'fisherman's code of honor.'

Patricia proved to be a good fisherwoman, catching more keepers than Sig. The two of them talked about everything under the sun, with one exception. She didn't bring up the Mustang and neither did he, both realizing that the topic was more 'business' than pleasure…and this trip was clearly about pleasure.

He worked into their conversations his goal of being an Alaskan Crab boat captain and his upcoming plans to leave for the King Crab season. _I'm not leading this woman on. I want her to know exactly where I'm heading in life and, if she doesn't want to deal with that, the sooner she knows the better…for both of us_.

As far as Sig could tell, Patricia seemed genuinely happy for him but gave no outward signs of disgust or recoil.

"So how'd you manage to get the day off?" Sig asked, changing topics. "With the holiday, I would have thought the police force needed every man…person…available."

"I traded Thanksgiving," she answered, "But I do have to work the midnight shift so I'll have to leave before sunset."

Sig was taken aback. _The woman just gave up her Thanksgiving Day holiday to spend time with me. Should I say thanks or something? Wow, I don't really know how to respond to that_. "I hope the day here ends up being worth the sacrifice."

"It already has," she whispered, unsure if Sig heard her.

From the smile that broke out on his face, she guessed he did.

* * *

Sometime later, Sig and Patricia drove around the lake to cool off, coming across Nick and Colleen by the rocking banks of the lake.

"Any luck finding Matt?" Sig asked.

"No, Sig, and I'm starting to get worried," Nick looked flustered and more than a little concerned.

"How about you and I search the woods for a while?" Sig tilted his head in the direction of the trees, "We can tie up the canoe here and take the ladies and the fish back in my boat. It'll be a lot faster. Then we can walk the woods around the lake, taking the canoe back to the dock after we search the perimeter."

"Perimeter," Patricia turned to Sig and laughed, "You sound like a cop."

Sig shrugged good-naturedly.

"For all you know, your brother could be back at the cabin, eating hot dogs with his feet up in the shade," Colleen soothed reassuringly.

"Let's go back and check," Nick grumbled, his emotions vacillating between anxiety and anger.

Nick steered the canoe alongside the boat, making sure Colleen was transferred safely into Sig's vessel. Then he jumped into the shallow water and pulled the canoe up on the rocks, securing the paddles behind the rocky edge. Swimming out to the motor boat, Sig aided his friend inside and the four of them headed back to the dock.

* * *

"FISH!" Norman exclaimed proudly, spotting their family boat turning the corner of the lake and heading for 'port.' It was close to noontime and the middle brother's stomach was rumbling.

"Come on, baby," he got up from the rocks, helping Amanda up with him, "Let's go see what Sig caught." He called out to the two young teens still swimming in the lake, "Edgar, we're going back. You coming?"

"Can we stay here a little longer?" Sally asked from the water.

"A little bit," Amanda called sternly, "Then you come in for lunch."

"Alright," the younger sister called back.

Daisy decided she was done with swimming for a while and swam to shore, curious as to where Amanda and Norman were going. She followed them along the rocky edge until it smoothed out and became more like a sandy bank.

"Do you want to dry off a little before we go?" Edgar asked the cute girl swimming next to him.

She nodded and the two young teens swam to the rocks. Edgar assisted Sally up and onto the same large, smooth boulder Norman and Amanda just vacated. They sat in silence for a while, soaking up the sun and watching Sig dock the boat.

"What'cha catch, bro?" Norman asked as he tossed the lines out from the dock.

"A lot of trout," Sig answered, "Looks like we're set for lunch. Where's Edgar?"

Norman leaned over and helped Colleen and Patricia from the boat. Nick he left to help himself out. "He's still swimming with Sally."

"Have you seen Matt?" Nick asked as he heaved the full fish keeper onto the dock.

"Nope," Norman quipped coldly. He opened the cooler and whistled, "Damn, Sig, did you leave any fish in the lake?"

"Blame Patricia," Sig beamed up at her proudly, "She's got the magic touch."

"Come on, ladies," Norman picked up the cooler and started walking down the dock, "Let me show you how to cook a fish."

Amanda rolled her eyes and whispered to Colleen and Patricia, "He thinks we're not qualified for the job. You girls want to show him a thing or two?"

Norman was trailed by three determined women who knew how to cook and were about to show the muscular guy he wasn't the only one who knew how to roast a fish on the grill.

"Sig," Nick whispered as the girls left, "I'm really worried." The heartfelt confession struck a chord with the oldest Hansen, "Matt can do some stupid things when he gets into one of his moods."

"Let's check the house and cars quick and then we'll work our way through the woods." The oldest brothers secured the boat and followed the rest of the pack back to the house. Norman took over the grill on the opposite side of the house and Sig could smell the fish cooking already.

The ladies had already taken over the small kitchen and Sig and Nick got kicked out the minute they set foot in the cabin, assured that it was empty of lurking little brothers and accused of trying to steal food before it was ready.

The littlest brother, still hanging out on the banks with the girl he really liked, saw his brothers and friends heading up to the cabin for lunch and then got distracted when Sally shimmied closer to him. Their hips were now touching and he stole a glance at her face before looking away.

The next thing he knew, her hand was in his. He wrapped her small hand in his and smiled bashfully. So they sat quietly, holding hands.

Behind them, in the woods to their left, they didn't hear Nick and Sig coming. On the way, Sig had explained privately to Nick what Edgar had shared with him. Nick gave no reaction to the information, no explanation or justification for his decision to bring Colleen. The older brothers were working their way through the thick path, stopping before coming out of the tree line.

"Wait," Sig said to Nick, putting a hand on his shoulder. He watched from the woods as his baby brother leaned over and kissed the cute blond.

"Awww," Nick whispered, smiling for the first time since he and Colleen left the dock and forgetting his own troubles for a moment, "His first kiss?"

"I don't know," Sig whispered, eyebrow cocked, "He seems to know what he's doing." The oldest Hansen shook his head and smiled. He was happy…truly happy…for his youngest brother. Feeling a little guilty about invading Edgar's privacy, even if it was unbeknownst to Edgar, Sig motioned for him and Nick to move on.

Suddenly, from the kissing couple's right, a young boy strolled down the rocky banks of the shore, "Ain't…da…so cute, Ed."

Edgar and Sally broke apart and moved away from each other.

"I think we found your brother," Sig whispered to Nick from the woods.

Matt staggered towards the rock, a large liquor bottle in his hand, a fourth of the homemade hooch gone.

Edgar spotted the bottle in the sunlight, "Matt?" he asked questioningly.

"Look… (hiccup)…look what…I found…in someone's truck," Matt slung the bottle up in front of him. The motion caused him to stumble and sit down heavily on the rock with Sally and Edgar.

"Are you drunk?" Sally asked, although she could smell the liquor seeping out of the kid's pours.

"You want some?" Matt offered the bottle to both of them, "Come on…the 'adults' all left…us. Ain't (hiccup) nobody…gotta know. Come on, Ed. Have a sip. Tastes way better than beer…like lime and lemons all mixed together."

Nick growled and made a move. Sig pulled his arm back, holding him there. Nick gave Sig a questioning look but the blonde's eyes and ears remained locked on his baby brother. "Just wait," he whispered in a hiss, allowing Edgar to make the crucial decision. _Rebuilding that trust starts right here…right now._

Edgar looked at the bottle and then over to the cabin. Everyone was gone…inside the house. _They'll never know…just one sip_. He glanced down at Sally, unsure of how to take her confused expression. _Would she think I'm a wuss for turning the offer down? Like I'm some kind of pussy? And Matt? He's gonna tease the shit out of me if I don't for the rest of the time here. I've been really good lately. No smoking…no trouble. Don't I deserve just a little 'something?' I could brush my teeth real good after._

Sig watched…waited…and held his breath. _Come on, baby brother…_he internally pleaded_…don't make the same mistake I did when I was your age…same holiday…different location…same situation. Anything to impress your friends. But what about your promise to ME? _

_No matter what, I made Sig a promise…and even if he never knew I did this and I get away with it, __**I'll**__ always know_. Although he had no idea whatsoever that his big brother was watching, Edgar came to his decision. "NO, Matt," and pushed the bottle away.

Sig almost broke down on the woods' dirt-covered floor and cried right then and there. If it hadn't been for the murderous look on Nick's face, he would have.

The oldest Hansen was so proud of his kid brother, he was at a loss for words and wanted to sweep the kid up in a big hug. But he was too busy chasing after his friend before he killed his own little brother.

As they popped out of the woods, Sig started moving a lot faster when Sally grabbed the bottle and said, "What the hell" as she put the rim of the bottle to her lips.

~tbc


End file.
